GEORGE WHARTON IAMES 




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QUIT YOUR WORRYING! 



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Pasadena, California. 



QUIT YOUR 
WORRYING! 

BY 

GEORGE WHARTON JAMES 

AUTHOR OF 

"Living: the Radiant Life," "What the White 

Race may learn from the Indian," "The 

story of Scraggles," "California, Romantic 

and Beautiful," "Our American 

Wonderlands," etc. etc. 



PASADENA, CALIF. 

THE RADIANT LIFE PRESS 

1916 



*\ 



4? 



Copyright, 1916 
BY EDITH E. FARNSWORTH 




J. F. TAPLEY CO. 

NEW YORK 

APR -8 1916 
©CU427570 



J- 



TO THOSE 

who are standing on the banks of worry 

before the ocean of God's love 

I cry aloud 

'COME ON IN— THE WATER'S FINE! 



CONTENTS 

PAGE 

Foreword 

CHAPTER 

I The Curse of Worry ... 1 

II Ours is the Age of Worry . . 22 

III Nervous Prostration and Worry 29 
IV Holy Writ, The Sages and 

Worry 38 

V The Needlessness and Use- 

LESSNESS OF WORRY ... 52 

VI The Selfishness of Worry . . 66 

VII Causes of Worry .... 73 

VIII Protean Forms of Worry . . 108 

IX Health Worries 120 

X The Worries of Parents . . 128 

** XI Marital Worries .... 145 
XII The Worry of the Squirrel 

Cage 152 

XIII Religious Worries and Wor- 
riers 169 

^ XIV Ambition and Worry . . . 187 

XV Envy and Worry .... 194 

XVI Discontent and Worry . . . 198 

XVII Cowardice and Worry . . . 202 



s 



CONTENTS 



XVIII Worry about Manners and 

Speech 

XIX The Worries of Jealousy . 
XX The Worries of Suspicion . 
XXI The Worries of Impatience 
XXII The Worries of Anticipation 
XXIII How Our Worry Affects 
Others ..„..., 
XXIV Worry versus Indifference 
XXV Worries and Hobbies 



206 
220 
229 
233 
236 

241 
245 
250 



JUST BE GLAD 

By James Whitcomb Riley 

O heart of mine, we shouldn't worry so, 
What we have missed of calm we couldn't have, 
you know! 

What we've met of stormy pain. 
And of sorrow's driving rain. 
We can better meet again, 
If it blow. 

We have erred in that dark hour, we have known, 
When the tear fell with the shower, all alone. 

Were not shine and shower blent 
As the gracious Master meant? 
Let us temper our content 
With His own. 

For we know not every morrow 

Can be sad; 
iSo forgetting all the sorrow 

We have had, 
Let us fold away our fears, 
And put by our foolish tears, 
And through all the coming years, 

Just be glad. 



FOREWORD 

"R ETWEEN twenty and thirty years ago, I be- 
came involved in a series of occurrences and con- 
ditions of so painful and distressing a character 
that for over six months I was unable to sleep 
more than one or two hours out of the twenty- 
four. In common parlance I was "worrying my- 
self to death," when, mercifully, a tot^l collapse 
of mind and body came. My physicians used the 
polite euphemism of "cerebral congestion" to des- 
cribe my state which, in reality, was one of tem- 
porary insanity, and it seemed almost hopeless 
that I should ever recover my health and poise. 
For several months I hovered between life and 
death, and my brain between reason and unreason. 
In due time, however, both health and mental 
poise came back in reasonable measure, and I asked 
myself what would be the result if I returned to 
the condition of worry that culminated in the 
disaster. This question and my endeavors at its 

xi 



FOREWORD 

solution led to the gaining of a degree of philo- 
sophy which materially changed my attitude to- 
ward life. Though some of the chief causes of 
my past worry were removed there were still 
enough adverse and untoward circumstances sur- 
rounding me to give me cause for worry, if I al- 
lowed myself to }deld to it, so I concluded that 
my mind must positively and absolutely be pro- 
hibited from dwelling upon those things that 
seemed justification for worry. And I deter- 
mined to set before me the ideal of a life without 
worry. 

How was it to be brought about? 

At every fresh attack of the harassing demon 
I rebuked myself with the stern command, "Quit 
your Worrying." Little by little I succeeded in 
obeying my own orders. A measurable degree of 
serenity has since blessed my life. It has been no 
freer than other men's lives from the ordinary — 
and a few extraordinary — causes of worry, but I 
have learned the lesson. I have Quit Worrying, 
To help others to attain the same desirable and 
happy condition has been my aim in these pages. 

xii 



FOREWORD 

It was with set purpose that I chose this title. 
I might have selected "Don't Worry." But I 
knew that would fail to convey my principal 
thought to the casual observer of the title. People \ l\ 
•will worry, they do worry. What they want to . 
know and need to learn is how to quit worrying^ 
This I have attempted herein to show, with the 
full knowledge, however, that no one person's re- 
cipe can infallibly be used by any other person — 
so that, in reality, all I have tried to do is to 
set forth the means I have followed to teach my- 
self the delightful lesson of serenity, of freedom 
from worry, and thereby to suggest to receptive 
minds a way by which they may possibly attain 
the same desirable end. 

It was the learned and wise Dr. Johnson who 
wrote : 

He may be justly numbered amongst the benefactors of 
mankind, who contracts the great rules of life into short 
sentences, that may easily be impressed on the memory, 
and taught by frequent recollection to recur habitually to 
the mind. 

I have no desire to claim as original the 
title used for these observations, but I do covet 
xiii 



FOREWORD 

the joy of knowing that I have so impressed it 
upon the memory of thousands that by its con- 
stant recurrence it will aid in banishing the 
monster, worry. 

It is almost unavoidable that, in a practical 
treatise of this nature, there should be some repe- 
tition, both in description of worries and the 
remedies suggested. To the critical reader, how- 
ever, let me say: Do not worry about this, for I 
am far more concerned to get my thought into 
the heads and hearts of my readers than I am to 
be esteemed a great writer. Let me help but one 
troubled soul to quit worrying and I will forego 
all the honors of the ages that might have come 
to me had I been an essayist of power. And I 
have repeated purposely, for I know that some 
thoughts have to knock again and again, ere they 
are admitted to the places where they are the most 
needed. 

I have written strongly; perhaps some will 
think too strongly. These, however, must remem- 
ber that I have written advisedly. I have been 
considering the subject for half or three parts of 
xiv 



FOREWORD 

a life-time. I have studied men and women ; care- 
fully watched their lives ; talked with them, and 
seen the lines worry has engraved on their faces. I 
have seen and felt the misery caused by their un- 
necessary worries. I have sat by the bedsides of 
people made chronic invalids by worry, and I have 
stood in the cells of maniacs driven insane by 
worry. Hence I hate it in all its forms, and have 
expressed myself only as the facts have justified. 
Wherein I have sought to show how one might 
Quit his Worrying, these pages presuppose an 
earnest desire, a sincere purpose, on the part of 
the reader to attain that desirable end. There is 
no universal medicine which one can drink in six 
doses and thus be cured of his disease. I do not 
offer my book as a mental cure-all, or nostrum 
that, if swallowed whole, will cure in five days or 
ten. As I have tried to show, I conceive worry to 
be unnatural and totally unnecessary, because of 
its practical denial of what ought to be, and I 
believe may be, the fundamental basis of a man's 
life, viz., his perfect, abiding assurance in the 
fatherly love of God. As little Pippa sang: 

xv 



FOREWORD 

God's in his heaven, 
All's right with the world. 

The only way, therefore, to lose our sense of 
worry is to get back to naturalness, to God, and 
learn the peace, joy, happiness, serenity, that 
come with practical trust in Him. With some 
people this change may come instantly; with 
others, more slowly. Personally I have had to 
learn slowly, "line upon line, precept upon pre- 
cept, here a little, there a little." And I would 
caution my readers not to expect too much all at 
once. But I am fully convinced that as faith, 
trust, and naturalness grow^ worry will cease, will 
slough off, like the dead skin of the serpent, and 
leave those once bound by it free from its malign 
influence. Who cannot see and feel that such a 
consummation is devoutly to be wished, worth 
working and earnestly striving for? 

If I help a few I shall be more than repaid, if 
many, my heart will rejoice. 




/p^^s^ 



Pasadena, Calif. 
February, 1916. 



QUIT YOUR WORRYING! 

Chapter I 

THE CURSE OF WORRY 

KJF how many persons can it truthfully be said 
they never worry, they are perfectly happy, con- 
tented, serene? It would be interesting if each 
of my readers were to recall his acquaintances and 
friends, think over their condition in this regard, 
and then report to me the result. What a budget 
of worried persons I should have to catalogue, and 
alas, I am afraid, how few of the serene would 
there be named. When John Burroughs wrote 
his immortal poem, Waiting, he struck a deeper 
note than he dreamed of, and the reason it made 
so tremendous an impression upon the English- 
speaking world was that it was a new note to 
them. It opened up a vision they had not before 
contemplated. Let me quote it here in full: 

1 



QUIT YOUR WORRYING 

.Serene I fold my hands and wait, 
Nor care for wind, or tide or sea; 
I rave no more 'gainst time or fate, 
For lo! my own shall come to me. 

I stay my haste, I make delays, 
For what avails this eager pace? 
I stand amid the eternal ways, 
And what is mine shall know my face. 

Asleep, awake, by night or day, 
The friends I seek are seeking me, 
No wind can drive my bark astray, 
Nor change the tide of destiny. 

What matter if I stand alone? 
I wait with joy the coming years; 
My heart shall reap where it has sown, 
And garner up its fruit of tears. 

The waters know their own and draw 
The brook that springs in yonder height, 
So flows the good with equal law 
Unto the soul of pure delight. 

The stars come nightly to the sky; 
The tidal wave unto the sea; 
Nor time, nor space, nor deep, nor high 
Can keep my own away from me. 

I have been wonderfully struck by the fact that 
in studying the Upanishads, and other sacred 
books of the East, there is practically no refer- 
ence to the kind of worry that is the bane and 
curse of our Occidental Jvorhi- In conversation 
with the learned men of the Orient I find this 
same delightful fact. Indeed they have no word 



THE CURSE OK WORRY 

in their languages to express our idea of fretful 
worry. Worry is a purely Western product, the 
outgrowth of our materialism, our eager striving 
after place and position, power and wealth, our 
determination to be housed, clothed, and jeweled 
as well as our neighbors, and a little better if 
possible ; in fact, it comes from our failure to 
know that life is spiritual not material; that all 
these outward things are the mere "passing show," 
the tinsel, the gawds, the tissue-paper, the blue 
and red lights of the theater, the painted scenery, 
the mock heroes and heroines of the stage, rather 
than the real settings of the real life of real men 
and women. What does the inventor, who knows 
that his invention will help his fellows, care about 
the newest dance, or the latest style in ties, gloves 
or shoes ; what does the woman whose heart and 
brain are completely engaged in relieving suffer- 
ing care if she is not familiar with the latest novel, 
or the latest fashions in flounced pantalettes? 
Life is real, life is earnest, and this does not mean 
unduly solemn and somber, but that it deals with 
the real things rather than the paper-flower shows 

3 



QUIT YOUR WORRYING 

of the stage and the imaginary things of so- 
called society. 

It is the fashion of our active, aggressive, 
material, Occidental civilization to sneer and scoff 
at the quiet, passive, and less material civilization 
of the Orient. We despise — that is, the unthinking 
majority do — the studious, contemplative Orien- 
tal. We believe in being "up and doing." But 
in this one particular of worry we have much to 
learn from the Oriental. If happiness and a large 
content be a laudable aim of life how far are we — 
the occidental world — succeeding in attaining it? 
Few there be who are content, and, as I have al- 
ready suggested few there be who are free from 
worry. On the other hand while active happiness 
may be somewhat scarce in India, a large content 
is not uncommon, and worry, as we Westerners 
understand it, is almost unknown. Hence we need 
to find the happy mean between the material ac- 
tivity of our own civilization, and the mental 
passivity of that of the Orientals. Therein will 
be found the calm serenity of an active mind, the 
reasonable acceptance of things as they are be- 



THE CURSE OF WORRY 

cause we know they are good, the restfulness 
that comes from the assurance that "all things 
work together for Good to them that love God. 

That worry is a curse no intelligent observer 
of life will deny. It has hindered millions from 
progressing, and never benefited a soul. It occu- 
pies the mind with that which is injurious and 
thus keeps out the things that might benefit and 
bless. It is an active and real manifestation of 
the fable of the man who placed the frozen asp in 
his bosom. As he warmed it back to life the 
reptile turned and fatally bit his benefactor. 
Worry is as a dangerous, injurious book, the 
reading of which not only takes up the time that 
might have been spent in reading a good, instruc- 
tive, and helpful book, but, at the same time, 
poisons the mind of the reader, corrupts his soul 
with evil images, and sets his feet on the pathway 
to destruction. 

Why is it that creatures endowed with reason 
distress themselves and everyone around them by 
worrying? It might seem reasonable for the 
wild creatures of the wood — animals without 

5 



A 



P 



(6 



QUIT YOUR WORRYING 

reason — to worry as to how they should secure 
their food, and live safely with wilder animals and 
men seeking their blood and hunting them; but 
that men and women, endued with the power of 
thought, capable of seeing the why and where- 
fore of things, should worry, is one of the strange 
and peculiar evidences that our so-called civiliza- 
tion is not all that it ought to be. The wild 
Indian of the desert, forest, or canyon seldom, if 
ever, worries. He is too great a natural phil- 
osopher to be engaged in so foolish and unneces- 
sary a business. He has a better practical system 
of life than has his white and civilized ( !) brother 
who worries, for he says: Change what can be 
changed; bear the unchangeable without a mur- 
mur. With this philosophy he braves the wind 
and the rain, the sand, and the storm, the ex- 
tremes of heat and cold, the plethora of a good 
harvest or the famine of a drought. If he com- 
plains it is within himself; and if he whines and 
whimpers no one ever hears him. His face may 
become a little more stern under the higher pres- 
sure ; he may tighten his waist belt a hole or two 

6 



THE CURSE OF WORRY 

to stifle the complaints of his empty stomach, but 
his voice loses no note of its cheeriness and his 
smile none of its sweet serenity. 

Why should the rude and brutal ( !) savage be 
thus, while the cultured, educated, refined man and 
woman of civilization worry wrinkles into their 
faces, gray hairs upon their heads, querelousness 
into their voices and bitterness into their hearts? 

When we use the word "worry" what do we 
mean? The word comes from the old Saxon, and 
was in imitation of the sound caused by the 
choking or strangling of an animal when seized 
by the throat by another animal. We still refer 
to the "worrying" of sheep by dogs — the seizing 
by the throat with the teeth ; killing or badly in- 
juring by repeated biting, shaking, tearing, etc. 
From this original meaning the word has en- 
larged until now it means to tease, to trouble, to 
harass with importunity or with care or anxiety. 
In other words it is undue care, needless anxiety, 
unnecessary brooding, fretting thought. 

What a wonderful picture the original source 
of the word suggests of the latter-day meaning. 

7 



QUIT YOUR WORRYING 

Worry takes our manhood, womanhood, our high 
ambitions, our laudable endeavors, our daily lives, 
by the throat, and strangles, chokes, bites, tears, 
shakes them, hanging on like a wolf, a weasel, or 
a bull-dog, sucking out our life-blood, draining 
our energies, our hopes, our aims, our noble de- 
sires, and leaving us torn, empty, shaken, useless, 
bloodless, hopeless, and despairing. It is the 
nightmare of life that rides us to discomfort, 
wretchedness, despair, and to that death-in-life 
that is no life at all. It is the vampire that sucks 
out the good of us and leaves us like the rind of 
a squeezed-out orange; it is the cooking-process 
that extracts and wastes all the nutritious juices 
of the meat and leaves nothing but the useless 
and tasteless fibre, j 

Worry is a worse thief than the burglar or 
highwayman. It goes beyond the train-wrecker 
or the vile wretch who used to lure sailing vessels 
upon a treacherous shore, in its relentless heart- 
lessness. Once it begins to control it never re- 
leases its hold unless its victim wakes up to the 
sure ruin that awaits him and frees himself from 

8 



THE CURSE OF WORRY 

its bondage by making a great, continuous, and 
successful fight. 

It steals the joy of married life, of fatherhood 
and motherhood ; it destroys social life, club life, 
business life, and religious life. It robs a man 
of friendships and makes his days long, gloomy 
periods, instead of rapidly-passing epochs of joy 
and happiness. It throws around its victim a 
chilling atmosphere as does the iceberg, or the 
snow bank; it exhales the mists and fogs of 
wretchedness and misunderstanding; it chills 
family happiness, checks friendly intercourse, and 
renders the business occupations of life curses in- 
stead of blessings. 

Worry manifests itself in a variety of ways. 
It is protean in its versatility. It can be physical 
or mental. The hypochondriac conceives that 
everything is going to the "demnition bow-wows." 
Nothing can reassure him. He sees in every ar- 
ticle of diet a hidden fiend of dyspepsia ; in every 
drink a demon of torture. Every man he meets 
is a scoundrel, and every woman a leech. Children 
are growing worse daily, and society is "rotten." 

9 



QUIT YOUR WORRYING 

The Church is organized for the mere fattening 
of a raft of preachers and parsons who preach 
what they don't believe and never try to practice. 
Lawyers and judges are all dishonest swindlers 
caring nothing for honor and justice and seeking 
only their fees ; physicians and surgeons are piti- 
less wretches who scare their patients in order to 
extort money from them ; men in office are waiting, 
lurking, hunting for chances to graft, eager to 
steal from their constituents at every opportunity. 
He expects every thing, every animal, every man, 
every woman to get the best of him — and, as 
a rule, he is not disappointed. For we can nearly 
always be accommodated in life and get that for 
which we look. 

We are told that all these imaginary ills come 
from physical causes. The hypochondrium is 
supposed to be affected, and as it is located under 
the "short ribs," the hypochondriac continuously 
suffers from that awful "sinking at the pit of the 
stomach" that makes him feel as if the bottom 
had dropped out of life itself. He can neither 
eat, digest his food, walk, sit, rest, work, take 

10 



THE CURSE OF WORRY 

pleasure, exercise, or sleep. His body is the vic- 
tim of innumerable ills. His tongue, his lips, his 
mouth are dry and parched, his throat full of 
slime and phlegm, his stomach painful, his bowels 
full of gas, and he regards himself as cursed of 
God — a walking receptacle of woe. To physician, 
wife, husband, children, employer, employee, 
pastor, and friend alike the hypochondriac is a 
pest, a nuisance, a chill and almost a curse, and, 
poor creature, these facts do not take away or 
lessen our sympathy for him, for, though most of 
his ills are imaginary, he suffers more than do 
those who come in contact with him. 

Then there is the neurasthenic — the mentally 
collapsed whose collapse invariably comes from too 
great tension or worry. I know several house- 
wives who became neurasthenic by too great anx- 
iety to keep their houses spotless. Not a speck of 
dust must be anywhere. The slightest appear- 
ance of inattention or carelessness in this matter 
was a great source of worry, and they worried lest 
the maid fail to do her duty. 

I know another housewife who is so dainty and 
11 



QUIT YOUR WORRYING 

refined that, though her husband's income is 
strained almost to the breaking point, she must 
have everything in the house so dainty and fragile 
that no ordinary servant can be trusted to care for 
the furniture, wash the dishes, polish the floors, 
etc., and the result is she is almost a confirmed 
neurasthenic because, in the first place, she worries 
over her dainty things, and, secondly, exhausts 
herself in caring for these unnecessarily fragile 
household equipments. 

Every neurasthenic is a confirmed worrier. He 
ever sits on the "stool of repentance," clothing 
himself in sackcloth and ashes for what he has 
done or not done. He cries aloud — by his acts — 
every five minutes or so: "We have done those 
things which we ought not to have done and have 
left undone those things which we ought to have 
done, and there is no health in us." Everything 
past is regretted, everything present is in doubt, 
and nothing but anxieties and uncertainties meet 
the future. If he holds a position of responsi- 
bility he asks his subordinates or associates to 
perform certain services and then "worries himself 

12 



THE CURSE OF WORRY 

to death," watching to see that they "do it right," 
or afraid lest they forget to do it at all. He 
wakes up from a sound sleep in dread lest he for- 
got to lock the door, turn out the electric light in 
the hall, or put out the gas. He becomes the 
victim of uncertainty and indecision. He fears 
lest he decide wrongly, he worries that he hasn't 
yet decided, and yet having thoroughly argued a 
matter out and come to a reasonable conclusion, 
allows his worries to unsettle him and is forever 
questioning his decision and going back to revise 
and rerevise it. Whatever he does or doesn't do 
he regrets and wishes he had done the converse. 

Husbands are worried about their wives; wives 
about their husbands ; parents about their chil- 
dren ; children about their parents. Farmers are 
worried over their crops ; speculators over their 
gamblings ; investors over their investments. 
Teachers are worried over their pupils, and pupils 
over their lessons, their grades, and their promo- 
tions. Statesmen ( !) are worried over their con- 
stituents, and the latter are generally worried by 
their representatives. People who have schemes 

13 



QUIT YOUR WORRYING 

to further — legitimate or otherwise — are worried 
when they are retarded, and competitors are wor- 
ried if they are not. Pastors are worried over 
their congregations, — occasionally about their 
salaries, very often about their large families, and 
now and again about their fitness for their holy 
office, — and there are few congregations that, at 
one time or another, are not worried by, as well 
as about, their pastors. The miner is worried 
when he sees his ledge "petering out," or finds the 
ore failing to assay its usuaLvalue. The editor is 
worried lest his reporters fail to bring in the 
news, and often worried when it is brought in to 
know whether it is accurate or not. The chemist 
worries over his experiments, and the inventor that 
certain things needful will persist in eluding him. 
The man who has to rent a house, worries when 
rent day approaches; and many who own houses 
worry at the same time. Some owners, indeed, 
worry because there is no rent day, they have no 
tenants, their houses are idle. Others worry be- 
cause their tenants are not to their liking, are 
destructive, careless, or neglect the flowers and 

14 



THE CURSE OF WORRY 

the lawn, or allow the children to batter the fur- 
niture, walk in hob nails over the hardwood floors, 
or scratch the paint off the walls. Men in high 
position worry lest their superiors are not as fully 
appreciative of their efforts as they should be, 
and they in turn worry their subordinates lest 
they forget that they are subordinate. 

Mistresses worry about their maids, and maids 
about their mistresses. Some of the former worry 
because they have to go into their kitchens, others 
because they are not allowed to go. Some mis- 
tresses deliberately worry their servants, and 
others are worried because their servants insist 
upon doing the worrying. Many a wife is worried 
because of her husband's typewriter, and many a 
typewriter is worried because her employer has a 
wife. Some typewriters are worried because they 
are not made into wives, and many a one who is a 
wife wishes she were free again to become a type- 
writer. 

Thousands of girls — many of them who ought 
yet to be wearing short dresses and plaj-ing with 
dolls — worry because they have no sweethearts, 

15 



QUIT YOUR WORRYING 

and equal thousands worry because they do have 
them. Many a lad worries because he has no 
"lassie," and many a one worries because he has. 
Yesterday I rode on a street car and saw a bit of 
by-play that fully illustrated this. On these par- 
ticular cars there is a seat for two alongside the 
front by the motorman. On this car, chatting 
merrily with the handler of the lever, sat a black- 
eyed, pretty-faced Latin type of brunette. That 
he was happy was evidenced by his good-natured 
laugh and the huge smile that covered his face 
from ear to ear as he responded to her sallies. 
Just then a young Italian came on the car, directly 
to the front, and seemed nettled to see the young 
lady talking so freely with the motorman. He 
saluted her with a frown upon his face, but evi- 
dently with familiarity. The change in the girl's 
demeanor was instantaneous. Evidently she did 
not wish to offend the newoomer, nor did she wish 
to break with the motorman. All were ill at ease, 
distraught, vexed, worried. She tried to bring 
the newcomer into the conversation, which he re- 
fused. The motorman eyed him with hostility 

16 



THE CURSE OF WORRY 

now and again, as he dared to neglect his duty, 
but smiled uneasily in the face of the girl when 
she addressed him with an attempt at freedom. 

Bye and bye the youth took the empty seat by 
the side of the girl, and endeavored to draw her 
into conversation to the exclusion of the motor- 
man. She responded, twisting her body and face 
towards him, so that her sweet and ingratiating 
smiles could not be seen by the motorman. Then, 
she reversed the process and gave a few fleeting 
smiles to the grim-looking motorman. It was as 
clear a case of 

How happy could I be with either, 
Were t'other dear charmer away, 

as one could well see. 

Just then the car came to a transfer point. The 
girl had a transfer and left, smiling sweetly, but 
separately, in turn, to the motorman and her 
young Italian friend. The latter watched her go. 
Then a new look came over his face, which I won- 
dered at. It was soon explained. The transfer 
point was also a division point for this car. The 
motorman and conductor were changed, and the 

17 



QUIT YOUR WORRYING 

moment the new crew came, our motorman jumped 
from his own car, ran to the one the brunette 
had taken, and swung himself on, as it crossed at 
right angles over the track we were to take. 
Rising to his feet the youth watched the passing 
car, with keenest interest until it was out of sight, 
clearly revealing the jealousy, worry, and unrest 
he felt. 

In another chapter I have dealt more fully with 
the subject of the worries of jealousy. They 
are demons of unrest and distress, destroying the 
very vitals with their incessant gnawing. 

Too great emphasis cannot be placed upon the 
physical ills that come from worry. The body 
unconsciously reflects our mental states. A fret- 
ful and worrying mother should never be allowed 
to suckle her child, for she directly injures it by 
the poison secreted in her milk by the disturb- 
ances caused in her body by the worry of her 
mind. Among the many wonderfully good things 
said in his lifetime Henry Ward Beecher never 
said a wiser and truer thing than that "it is not 
the revolution which destroys the machinery, but 

18 



THE CURSE OF WORRY 

the friction." Worry is the friction that shatters 
the machine. Work, to the healthy body and 
serene mind, is a joy, a blessing, a health-giving 
exercise, but to the worried is a burden, a curse 
and a destroyer. 

Go where you will, when you will, how you will, 
and you will find most people worrying to a 
greater or lesser extent. Indeed so full has our 
Western world become of worry that a harsh and 
complaining note is far more prevalent than we 
are willing to believe, which is expressed in a rude 
motto to be found hung on many an office, bed- 
room, library, study, and laboratory wall which 
reads : 



Life is one Damn 

Thing after Another 



Those gifted with a sense of humor laugh at 
the motto ; the very serious frown at it and repro- 
bate its apparent profanity, those who see no 
humor in anything regard it with gloom, the 
careless with assumed indifference, but in the 
minds of all, more or less latent or subconscious, 

19 



QUIT YOUR WORRYING 

there is a recognition that there is "an awful lot 
of truth in it." 

Hence it will be seen that worry is by no means 
confined to the poor. The well-to-do, the pros- 
perous, and the rich, indeed, have far more to 
worry about than the poor, and for one victim who 
suffers keenly from worry among the poor, ten can 
be found among the rich who are its abject victims. 

It is worry that paints the lines of care on fore- 
heads and cheeks that should be smooth and 
beautiful ; worry bows the » shoulders, brings out 
scowls and frowns where smiles and sweet greet- 
ings should exist. Worry is the twister, the 
dwarf er, the poisoner, the murderer of joy, of 
peace, of work, of happiness ; the strangler, the 
burglar of life; the phantom, the vampire, the 
ghost that scares, terrifies, fills with dreads Yet 
he is a liar and a scoundrel, a villain and a coward, 
who will turn and flee if fearlessly and cour- 
ageously met and defied. Instead of pampering 
and petting him, humoring and conciliating him, 
meet him on his own ground. Defy him to do his 
worst. Flaunt him, laugh at his threats, sneer 

20 



THE CURSE OF WORRY 

and scoff at his pretensions, bid him do his worst. 
Better be dead than under the dominion of such 
a tyrant. And, my word for it, as soon as you 
take that attitude, he will flee from you, nay, he 
will disappear as the mists fade away in the heat 
of the noonday sun. 

Worry, however, is not only an effect. It is 
also a cause. Worry causes worry. It breeds 
more rapidly than do flies. The more one worries 
the more he learns to worry. Begin to worry 
over one thing and soon you are worrying about 
twenty. And the infernal curse is not content 
with breeding worries of its own kind. It is as if 
it were a parent gifted with the power of breeding 
a score, a hundred different kinds of progeny at 
one birth, each more hideous, repulsive, and fear- 
ful than the other. There is no palliation, tem- 
porization, or parleying possible with such a mon- 
ster. Death is the only way to be released from 
him, and it is your death or his. His death is a 
duty God requires at your hands. Why, then, 
waste time? Start now and kill the foul fiend as 
quickly as you can. 

21 



Chapter II 

OURS IS THE AGE OF WORRY 

±1 OW insulting ! What a ridiculous statement ! 
How ignorant of our achievements! I can well 
imagine some of my readers saying when they 
see this chapter heading. This, an age of worry ! 
Why this is the age of progress, of advancement, 
of uplift, of the onward march of a great and 
wonderful civilization. 

Is it? 

Certainly it is! See what we have done in 
electricity, look at the telephone, telegraph, wire- 
less and now the wireless telephone. See our ad- 
vancement in mechanics, — the automobile, the new 
locomotives, vessels, etc. See our conquest of the 
air — dirigibles, aeroplanes, hydroplanes and the 
like. 

Yes! I see, and what of it? We have done, 
our advancement, our conquest, etc., etc. Yes! I 



OURS IS THE AGE OF WORRY 

see zee have not lessened our arrogance, our empty- 
headed pride, our boasting. We — Why "we" 1 ! 
What have you and I had to do with the new in- 
ventions in electricity or mechanics or the con- 
quest of the air? 

Not one single, solitary thing! The progress 
of the world has been made through the efforts of 
a few solitary, exceptional, rare individuals, not 
by the combined efforts of us all. You and I are 
as common, unprogressive, uninventive, indifferent 
mediocrities as we — the common people — always 
were. We have not contributed one iota to all 
this progress, and I often question whether much 
of it comes to us more fraught with good than 
evil. We claim the results without engaging in 
the work. We use the 'phone and worry because 
Central doesn't get us our connections immedi- 
ately, when we haven't the faintest conception of 
how the connection is gained, or why we are de- 
layed. We ride on the fast train, but chafe and 
worry ourselves and everybody about us to a 
frazzle because we are stopped on a siding by a 
semaphore of a block station which we never have 

83 



QUIT YOUR WORRYING 

observed, and would not understand if we did. 
We reap but have not sowed, gather but have not 
strewed, and that is ever injurious and never 
beneficial. Our conceit is flattered and enlarged, 
our importance magnified, our "dignity" — God 
save the mark! — made more impressive, and as a 
result, we are more the target for the inconse- 
quential worries of life. We worry if we are not 
flattered, if our importance is not recognized even 
by strangers, and our dignity not honored — in 
other words we worry that we are not kow-towed 
to, deferred to, respectfully greeted on every 
hand and made to feel that civilization, progress 
and advancement are materially furthered and 
enhanced by our mere existence. 

Every individual with such an outlook on life 
is a prolific distributer of worry germs ; he, she, 
is a pest and a nuisance, more disturbing to the 
real peace of the community than a victim of small- 
pox, and one who should be isolated in a pest- 
house. But, unfortunately, our myopic vision 
sees only the wealth, the luxury, the spending 
capacity of such an individual, and that ends it — 



VA 



OURS IS THE AGE OF WORRY 

we bow down and worship before the golden calf. 

If I had the time in these pages to discuss the 
history of worry, I am assured I could show clearly 
to the student of history that worry is always the 
product of prosperity ; that while a nation is hard 
at work at its making, and every citizen is en- \ /j 
gaged in arduous labor of one kind or another 
for the upbuilding of his own or the national 
power, worry is scarcely known. The builders of 
our American civilization were too busy conquer- 
ing the wilderness of New England, the prairies 
of the Middle West, the savannahs and lush 
growths of the South, the arid deserts of the 
West to have much time for worry. Such men 
and women were gifted with energy, the power 
of initiative and executive ability, they were force- 
ful, daring, courageous and active, and in their 
very working had neither time nor thought for 
worry. 

But just as soon as a reasonable amount of 
success attended their efforts, and they had 
amassed wealth their children began and continued 
to worry. Not occupied with work that demands 

25 



QUIT YOUR WORRYING 

our unceasing energy, we find ourselves occupied 
with trifles, worrying over our health, our invest- 
ments, our luxuries, our lap-dogs and our frivo- 
lous occupations. Imagine the old-time pioneers 
of the forest, plain, prairie and desert worrying 
about sitting in a draught, or taking cold if they 
got wet, or wondering whether they could eat what 
would be set before them at the next meal. They 
were out in the open, compelled to take whatever 
weather came to them, rain or shine, hot or cold, 
sleet or snow, and ready when the sunset hour 
came, to eat with relish and appetite sauce, the 
rtide and plain victuals placed upon the table. 

Compare the lives of that class of men with the 
later generation of "capitalists." I know one 
who used to live at Sherry's in New York. His 
apartments were as luxurious as those of a mon- 
arch ; he was not happy, however, for worry rode 
him from morning to night. He absolutely spent 
an hour or more each day consulting the menu, or 
discussing with the steward what he could have to 
place upon his menu, and died long before his 
time, cursed with his wealth, its resultant idleness 

26 



OURS IS THE AGE OF WORRY 

and the trifling worries that always come to such 
men. Had he been reduced to poverty, compelled 
to go out and work on a farm, eat oatmeal mush 
or starve for breakfast, bacon and greens for 
dinner, and cold pork and potatoes or starve for 
supper, he would be alive and happy to-daj^^^ 
Take the fussy, nervous, irritable, worrying 
men and women of life, who poke their noses into 
other people's affairs, retail all the scandal, and 
hand on all the slander and gossip of empty and, 
therefore, evil minds. They are invariably well 
to do and without any work or responsibilities. 
They go gadding about restless and feverish be- 
cause of the empty vacuity of their lives, a prey to 
worry because they have nothing else to do. If I 
were to put down and faithfully report the con- 
versations I have with such people ; the fool 
worries they are really distressed with; the labor, 
time and energy they spend on following chimeras, 
will o' the wisps, mirages that beckon to them 
and promise a little mental occupation, — and over 
which they cannot help but worry, one could 
scarcely believe it. 

n 



QUIT YOUR WORRYING 

As Dr. Walton forcefully says in his admirable 
booklet : 

The present, then, is the age, and our contemporaries 
are the people, that bring into prominence the little 
worries, that cause the tempest in the teapot, that bring 
about the worship of the intangible, and the magnification 
of the unessential. If we had lived in another epoch we 
might have dreamt of the eternal happiness of saving our 
neck, but in this one we fret because our collar does not 
fit it, and because tha button that holds the collar has 
rolled under the bureau.* 

I am not so foolish as to imagine for one mo- 
ment that I can correct the worrying tendency 
of the age, but I do want to be free from worry 
myself, to show others that it is unnecessary and 
needless, and also, that it is possible to live a life 
free from its demoralizing and altogether injuri- 
ous influences. 

*Calm Yourself. By George Lincoln Walton, M.D., 
Houghton, Mifflin & Co., Boston, Mass. 



Chapter III 

NERVOUS PROSTRATION AND WORRY. 

l\l ERVOUS prostration is generally understood 
to mean weakness of the nerves. It invariably comes 
to those who have extra strong nerves, but who do 
not know how to use them properly, as well as 
those whose nervous system is naturally weak and 
easily disorganized. Nervous prostration is a dis- 
ease of overwork, mainly mental overwork, and in 
ninety-nine cases out of a hundred, comes from 
worry. Worry is the most senseless and insane 
form of mental work. It is as if a bicycle-rider 
were so riding against time that, the moment after 
he got off his machine to sit down to a meal he 
sprang up again, and while eating were to work 
his arms and legs as if he were riding. It is the 
slave-driver that stands over the slave and compels 
him to continue his work, even though he is so 
exhausted that hands, arms and legs cease to obey, 
and he falls asleep at his task. 

29 



w 



QUIT YOUR WORRYING 

The folly, as well as the pain and distress of this 
cruel slave-driving is that we hold the whip over 
ourselves, have trained ourselves to do it, and have 
done it so long that now we seem unable to stop. 
In another chapter there is fully described (in 
Dorothy Canfield's vivid words) the squirrel-cage 
whirligig of modern society life. Modern busi- 
ness life is not much better. Men compel them- 
selves to the endless task of amassing money with- 
out knowing why they amass it. They make 
money, that they may enlarge their factories, to 
make more ploughs, to get more money, to enlarge 
their factories, to make more ploughs,to get more 
money, to enlarge more factories, to make more 
ploughs, and so on, ad infinitum. Where is the 
sense of it. Such conduct has well been termed 
money-madness. It is an obsession, a disease, a 
form of hypnotism, a mental malady. 

The tendency of the age is to drive. We drive 
our own children to school ; there they are driven 
for hours by one study after another ; even- when 
they come home they bring lessons with them — 
the lovers of study and over-conscientious because 

30 



NERVOUS PROSTRATION AND WORRY 

they want to do them, and the laggards because 
they must, if they are to keep up with their classes. 
If the parents of such children are not careful, 
they (the children) soon learn to worry; they are 
behind-hand with their lessons ; they didn't get 
the highest mark yesterday ; the class is going 
ahead of them, etc., etc., until mental collapse 
comes. 

For worrying is the worst kind of mental over- 
work. As Dr. Edward Livingston Hunt, of 
Columbia University, New York, said in a paper 
read by him early in 1912, before the Public 
Health Education Committee of the Medical So- 
ciety of the County of New York : 

There is a form of overwork, exceedingly common and 
exceedingly disastrous — one which equally accompanies 
great intellectual labors and minor tasks. I allude to worry. 
When we medical men speak of the workings of the brain 
we make use of a term both expressive and characteristic. 
It is to cerebrate. To cerebrate means to think, to reason, 
and to reach conclusions; it means to concentrate and to 
work hard. To think, then, is to cerebrate. To worry is to 
cerebrate intensely. 

Worry is overwork of the most disastrous kind; it means 
to drive the mental machinery at an unreasonable and 
dangerous rate. Worry gives the brain no rest, but rather 
keeps the delicate cells in constant and continuous action. 
Work is wear; worry is tear. Overwork, mental strain, 

31 



QUIT YOUR WORRYING 

and worry lead to a diminution of nerve force and to a 
prostration of the vital forces and causes a degeneracy of 
the blood vessels of the brain. 

Exhaustion, another name for fatigue, may show itself 
either in the form of physical collapse, so that the patient 
lacks resistance, and, becoming anemic and run down, falls 
a prey to any and every little ailment, or in the form of 
mental collapse. An exhausted brain then gives way to 
depression, to fears, and to anxiety. 

The vast majority of nervous breakdowns are avoidable; 
they are the result of our own excesses and of the dis- 
regard we show toward the ordinary laws of health and 
hygiene; they are the results of the tremendous demands 
which are made upon us by modern life; they are the 
result of the strenuous life. 

From this analysis, made by an expert, it is 
evident that worry and nervous prostration are 
but two points on the same circle. Nervous pros- 
tration causes worry, and worry causes nervous 
prostration. Those who overwork their bodies 
and minds — who drive themselves either with the 
cares of business, the amassing of wealth, yielding 
to the demands of society, the cravings of ambi- 
tion, or the pursuit of pleasure, are alike certain 
to suffer the results of mental overwork. 

And here let me interject what to me has be- 
come a fundamental principle upon which invari- 
ably I rely. It will be recalled what I have said 



NERVOUS PROSTRATION AND WORRY 

elsewhere of selfish and unselfish occupations. It 
is the selfish occupations that produce nerve-ex- 
haustion. Those that are unselfish seldom result 
in the disturbance of the harmony or equilibrium 
of our nature — whether we regard it as physical, 
mental, or spiritual. This may seem to be a 
trancendental statement — perhaps it is. But I 
am confidently assured of its essential truth. That 
man or woman who is truly engaged in an un- 
selfish work — a work that is for the good of 
others — has a right to look for, to expect and to 
receive from the great All Source of strength, 
power and serenity all that is needed to keep the 
body, mind and soul in harmony, consequently in 
perfect health and free from worry. 

Hence the apparent paradox that, if you would 
care for yourself you must disregard yourself 
in your loving care for others. 

One great reason why worry produces nervous 
prostration is that it induces insomnia. 

Worry and sleeplessness are twin sisters. As 
one has well said: "Refreshing sleep and vexing 
thoughts are deadly foes." Health and happi- 

33 



QUIT YOUR WORRYING 

ness often disappear from those who fail to sleep, 
for sleep, indeed, is "tired Nature's sweet res- 
torer," as Young in his Night Thoughts termed 
it. Shakspere never wrote anything truer when 
he said: 

Sleep that knits up the ravelPd sleave of care, 
The death of each day's life, sore labor's bath, 
Balm of hurt minds, great Nature's second course* 
Chief nourisher of life's feast. 

Or, where he spoke of it as 

Sleep that sometimes shuts up sorrow's eye* 
Steals me awhile from mine own company. 

Even the Bible makes sleep one of the special 
blessings of God, for we are told that "He giveth 
His beloved sleep." The sacred book contains 
many references to sleeplessness and its causes. 

Undoubtedly most potent among these causes 
is worry. The worrier retires to his bed at the 
usual hour, but his brain is busy — it is working 
overtime. What is it doing? Is it thinking over 
things that are to be done, and planning for the 
future? If so, there is a legitimate excuse, for 
as soon as the plan is laid, rest will come, and 
he will sleep. Is he thinking over the mistakes 

34 



NERVOUS PROSTRATION AND WORRY 

of the past and sensibly and wisely taking counsel 
from them? If so, he will speedily come to a 
decision, and then sleep will bring grateful ob- 
livion. Is he thinking joyful thoughts? These 
will bring a natural feeling of harmony with all 
things, and that is conducive to speedy sleep? 
Is he thinking of how he may help others? That 
is equally soothing to nerves, brain and body, and 
brings the refreshment of forgetfulness. 

But no! the worrier has another method. He 
thinks the same thoughts over and over again, 
without the slightest attempt to get anywhere. 
He has thrashed them out before, so often that 
he can tell exactly what each thought will lead to. 
His ideas go around in a circle like the horse 
tied to the wheel. He is on a treadmill ever 
ascending, tramping, up, up, up and up, and still 
up, but the wheel falls down each time as far as 
he steps up, and after hours and hours of un- 
ceasing, wracking, distressful mental labor, he 
has done absolutely nothing, has not progressed 
one inch, is still in the clutch of the same vicious 
treadmill. Brain weary, nerve weary, is there any 

35 



QUIT YOUR WORRYING 

wonder that he rolls and tosses, throws over his 
pillow, kicks off the clothes, groans, almost cries 
aloud in his agony of longing for rest. Poor 
victim of worry and sleeplessness, how I long to 
help you get rid of your evil habit and save others 
from falling into it. For both worry and sleep- 
lessness are habits, easily gained, and once gained 
very hard to get rid of, yet both unnecessary, 
needless, and foolish. The worry that produces 
sleeplessness is merciless ; so merciless and re- 
lentless that no fierce torture of a Black-hander 
can be described that is worse in its long con- 
tinuing and evil results. Lives are wrecked, 
brains shattered, happiness destroyed by this 
monstrous evil, and many a man and woman 
fastens it upon himself, herself, through indulging 
in anxious thought, or by yielding to that equal 
devil-dragon of self-pity. 

David the psalmist graphically tells of his own 
case: 

I am weary with my groaning; 

Every night make I my bed to swim; 

I water my couch with my tears, 

Mine eye wasteth away because of grief. Ps. VI. 6:7. 

36 



NERVOUS PROSTRATION AND WORRY 

At another time he cries 

My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me? 

Why art thou so far from helping me, and from the words 

of my groaning? 
Oh my God, I cry in the day time, but thou answereth not; 
And in the night season, I am not silent. Ps. XXII. 1:2. 

Yet God heard him not until his groaning and 
self-pity were cast aside, until he rested in God, 
trusted in Him. Then came rest, as he graphic- 
ally expresses it: 

I laid me down and slept; 

I awaked ; for Jehovah sustaineth me. Ps. III. 5. 

In peace will I both lay me down and sleep: 

For thou, Jehovah, alone maketh me dwell in safety. 

Ps. IV. 8. 
I will bless Jehovah, who hath given me counsel; 
Yea, my heart instructeth me in the night seasons. 

Ps. XVI. 7. 
See the result of this confidence in God. 

I have set Jehovah always before me: 
Because he is at my right hand, I shall not be moved. 
Therefore my heart is glad, and my glory rejoiceth: 
My flesh also shall dwell in safety. Ps. XVI. 8:9. 

And where the heart is glad, and one rejoiceth 

in the sense of peace and safety, sweet sleep lays 

its soothing hand upon the work-worn brain and 

body, tired with the labors of the day, and brings 

rest, repose, recuperation. 

37 



CHAPTER IV 

HOLY WRIT, THE SAGES, AND WORRY 

V>/UR civilization is called a Christian civiliza- 
tion. We are the Christian nations. Yet, as I 
have shown in Chapters I and II, ours is the worry- 
ing civilization. That worry is dishonoring to our 
civilization, and especially i^o our professions as 
Christians is self-evident. Let us then look briefly 
in the book we call our Holy Bible, our Guide of 
Life, our Director to Salvation, and see what the 
sacred writers have to say upon this subject. If 
they commend it, we may assume that it will be 
safe to worry. If they rebuke or reprobate it we 
may be equally assured that we have no right to 
indulge in it. 

St. Paul seemed to have a very clear idea of 

worry when he said: 

Be careful — [full of care] — for nothing, but in every- 
thing by prayer and supplication, with thanksgiving, make 
your requests known unto God. Philippians 4: 6. 

38 



HOLY WRIT, THE SAGES, AND WORRY 

How inclusive this is — full of care, anxiety, 
fretfulness, worry about nothing, but in every- 
thing presenting your case to God. And then 

comes the promise: 

And the peace of God which passeth all understanding 
shall keep your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus. Phil. 
IV. 7. 

How clear, definite, full and satisfactory. What 
room for worry is there in a heart full of the 
peace of God, which passeth all understanding? 
And oh, how much to be desired is such an experi- 
ence. 

Browning, in his Abt Vogler, sings practically 

the same sweet song where he says : 

Sorrow is hard to bear, and doubt is slow to clear, 

Each sufferer says his says, his scheme of the weal and 

woe: 
But God has a few of us whom He whispers in the ear; 
The rest may reason and welcome; 'tis we musicians know. 

If God whispers in the ear of the sufferer, the 
doubter, the distressed, the worried, the peace 
must come ; and if peace come, it matters not 
what others' reasoning may bring to them, the 
knowledge that God has whispered is enough ; it 
brings satisfaction, content, serenity, peace. 

39 



SUIT YOUR WORRYING 

The opposite of worry is rest, faith, trust, 
peace. How full the Bible is of promises of rest 
to those who know and love God and his ways of 
right-doing. Mendlessohn took the incitement of 
the psalmist (Psalm 37:7), "Rest in the Lord, 
and wait patiently for him," and made of it one 
of the tenderest, sweetest songs of all time. Full 
of yearning over the worried, the distressed, the 
music itself seems to brood in sympathetic and 
soothing power, as a mother croons to her fretful 
child : "Why fret, why worry, — No, no ! rest, rest 
my little one, in the love of the all-Father," and 
many a weary, fretful, worried heart has found 
rest and peace while listening to this sweet and 
beautiful song. 

There is still another passage in holy writ that 
the perpetual worrier should read and ponder. 
It is the prophet Isaiah's assurance that God says 
to His children: "As one whom his mother com- 
forteth, so will I comfort you." 

Who has not seen a fretful, sick child taken up 
by a loving mother, yield to her soothing influence 
in a few minutes and drop off into restful, health- 

40 



HOLY WRIT, THE SAGES, AND WORRY 

ful, restoring sleep. What a wonderful and 
forceful figure of speech, illustrative of a never- 
ceasing fact that the Spirit of all good, the su- 
preme Force of Love and Power in the universe 
is looking, watching, without slumber or sleep, 
untiring, unfailing, ever ready to give soothing 
comfort as does the mother, to those who fret and 
worry. 

Then, when cause for worry seems to be ever 
present, why not call upon this Loving Maternal 
Soothing Power? Why not rest in His arms, and 
thus find peace, poise and serenity? 

How much worry comes from fear as to the 
future. Men become hoarders, savers, misers, or 
work themselves beyond healthful endurance, or 
shut out the daily joys of existence in their busi- 
ness absorption, because they dread poverty in 
their old age. "Wise provision" becomes a 
driving monster, worrying them into a restless, 
fretful energy that must be accumulating all the 
time. 

Two thousand years ago this trait of human 
nature was so strongly manifested that Christ 

41 



QUIT YOUR WORRYING 

felt called upon to restrain and rebuke it. What 

a wonderful sermon He preached. It is worth 

while repeating it here, and wise would that man, 

that woman be, who is worried about to-morrow, 

were he, she, to read it daily. I give it in the 

revised version : 

I say unto you, Be not anxious for your life, what ye 
shall eat, or what ye shall drink; nor yet for your body, 
what ye shall put on. Is not the life more than the food, 
and the body than the raiment? Behold the birds of 
the heaven, that they sow not, neither do they reap, nor 
gather into barns; and your Heavenly Father feedeth 
them. Are not ye of much more value than they? And 
which of you by being anxious can add one cubit unto his 
stature? And why are ye anxious concerning raiment? 
Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow; they toil 
not, neither do they spin ; yet I say unto you, that even Solo- 
mon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these. But 
if God doth so clothe the grass of the field, which today is, 
and tomorrow is cast into the oven, shall he not much more 
clothe you, O ye of little faith? Be not therefore anxious, 
saying, What shall we eat? or, What shall we drink? or, 
Wherewithal shall we be clothed? For after all these 
things do the Gentiles seek; for your heavenly Father 
knoweth that ye have need of all these things. But seek 
ye first his kingdom, and his righteousness; and all these 
things shall be added unto you. Be not therefore anxious 
for the morrow: for the morrow will be anxious for itself. 
Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof. Matthew, 6:25- 
34. 

Here is the wisest philosophy. Anxiety is sui- 
cide, peace is life; worry destroys, serenity up- 

42 



HOLY WRIT, THE SAGES, AND WORRY 

builds. As you want to live, to grow, possess 
your souls in peace and serenity. Work, aye, 
work mightily, powerfully, daily, but work for the 
joy of it, not because worry drives you to it. 
Work persistently, consistently and worthily, be- 
cause no man can live — or ought to live — without 
it, but do not let work be your slave driver, your 
relentless master, urging you on to drudgery, 
bondage to your counter, ledger or factory, until 
you drop exhausted and lifeless. Work for the 
real joy of it, and then, filled with the blessed 
trust in God the all-Father expressed as above by 
Christ, throw your cares to the winds, bid your 
worries depart, and accept what comes with 
serenity, peace and thankfulness. 

Many proverbs have been written about worry, 
which it may be well to recall. Certainly it can 
do no harm to those who worry to see how their 
mental habit has been regarded, and is still re- 
garded, by the concentrated wisdom of the ages. 

An old proverb says: "It is not work, but 
worry, that kills." How true this is. Congenial 
work is a health-bringer, a necessity for a normal 

43 



QUIT YOUR WORRYING 

life, a joy; it keeps the body in order, promotes 
digestion, induces the sleep of perfect restoration 
and is one of man's greatest blessings. But worry 
brings dis-ease (want of ease), discomfort, 
wretchedness, promotes evil secretions which up- 
set the normal workings of the body, and is a 
constant banisher and disturber of sleep. 

Still another proverb says: "Worry killed the 
cat." Many people read this and fail to see its 
profound significance. It must be remembered 
that in "the good old days^" when this proverb 
was most rife, the superstitious held that a cat 
had nine lives. Now, surely, the deep meaning of 
the proverb is made apparent. Though the cat 
were possessed of nine lives, worry would surely 
kill them all — either one by one, by its horrid and 
determined persistence ; or all at once, by the con- 
centrated virulence of its power. 

There are many proverbs to the effect that 
"When worry comes in, wit flies out," and these 
are all true. Worry unsettles the mind, unbal- 
ances the judgment, induces fever of the intellect, 
which renders calm, cool weighing of matters im- 
44 



HOLY WRIT, THE SAGES, AND WORRY 

passible. No man of great achievements ever 
worried during his period of greatness. Had he 
done so his greatness could never have been 
achieved. Imagine a general trying to solve the 
vexing problems of a great combat which is going 
against him, with his mind beset by numberless 
worries. He must concentrate all his energies 
upon the one thing. If worry occupies his atten- 
tion, wit, sense, judgment, discretion, wisdom are 
crowded out, have no place. 

All the pictures given to us of Grant show him 
the most imperturbable at the most trying times. 
When the fortunes of war seemed most against 
him he was the most cheerful, the least disturbed. 
He had learned the danger of worry, and com- 
pelled it to flee from him, that calm judgment 
and clear-headed decisions might be his. 

If, therefore, these great ones of earth found 
it essential to their well-being to banish worry, 
how much more is it necessary that we of the 
ordinary mass of mankind, of the commoner herd, 
apply ourselves to the gaining of the same kind 
of wisdom. 

45 



QUIT YOUR WORRYING 

An old countrywoman once said in my hearing: 
"Worry, and you hug a hornet's nest." How 
suggestive both of the stinging that was sure to 
come and the folly, the absurdity, the cruelty to 
oneself of the act. 

The great Scotch philosopher, Blair, said: 
"Worry (or anxiety) is the poison of human life," 
and how true it is. How biting, how corroding, 
how destructive to life some poisons are, working 
speedily, suddenly, awfully. Others there are that 
have a cumulative effect, until life itself cannot 
bear the strain, and it goes out. Recently I was 
at a home where a son was so worried over con- 
ditions that he felt ought not to exist between his 
parents, that he totally collapsed, mentally, and 
for a time was in danger of losing his reason. 
The folly of his attitude is apparent to everyone 
but himself, though he now seeks in the absorbing 
occupation of teaching, to free himself from the 
poison of worry that was speedily destroying his 
reason. 

Henry Labouchere, the sage who for so many 
years has edited the London Truth, once wrote a 

46 



HOLY WRIT, THE SAGES, AND WORRY 

couplet, that is as true as anything he ever wrote: 

They who live in a worry, 
Invite death in a hurry. 

I want to be ready for death when it comes, but 
as yet I am not extending an invitation to the 
gentleman with the scythe. Are you, my worry- 
ing reader, anxious to be mowed down before your 
time? Quit your worrying, and don't urge the 
Master Reaper to harvest you in until He is sure 
you are ready. 

Another sage once said: "To worry about to- 
morrow is to be unhappy to-day," and the same 
thought is put into : "Never howl till you are hit," 
and the popular proverb attributed erroneously 
to Lincoln for it was long in use before Lincoln's 
time: "Do not cross the stream until you get to 
it." Christ put the same thought into his Ser- 
mon on the Mount, when He said: "Sufficient 
unto the day is the evil thereof." How utterly 
foolish and wrong it is to spoil to-day by fretting 
and worrying over the possible evils of to-morrow. 
Many a man in business has ruined himself by 
allowing worries about to-morrow to prevent him 

47 



QUIT YOUR WORRYING 

from doing the needful work of to-day. The 
rancher who sits down and worries because he 
fears it will not rain to-morrow, or it will rain, 
fails to do the work of to-day ready for whatever 
the morrow may bring forth. The wise Roman, 
Seneca, expressed the same thing in other words 
when he wrote: "He grieves more than is neces- 
sary who grieves before it is necessary," and our 
own Lowell had a similar thought in mind which 
he expressed as follows : "The misfortunes hardest 
to bear are those which never come." Even the 
Chinese saw the folly of worrying over events that 
have not yet transpired, for they have a saying: 
"To what purpose should a person throw himself 
into the water before the boat is cast away 
(wrecked)." 

All these proverbs, therefore, show that the 
wisdom of the ages is against worrying over 
things that have not yet transpired. Let to- 
morrow take care of itself. Live to-day. As 
Cardinal Newman's wonderful hymn expresses it: 

I do not ask to see the distant scene, 
One step enough for me. 

48 



HOLY WRIT, THE SAGES, AND WORRY 

Furthermore, the evil we dread for to-morrow 
may never come. Every man's experience demon- 
strates this. The bill for which he has not money 
in the bank is met by the unexpected payment of 
an account overdue, or not yet due. Hence if 
fears come of the morrow, if we are tempted to 
worry about a grief that seems to be approaching, 
let us resolutely cast the temptation aside, and by 
a full occupation of mind and body in the work of 
the "now," engage ourselves beyond the possi- 
bility of hearing the voice of the tempter. 

When one considers the words that are re- 
garded as synonymous with "worry," or that are 
related to it, he sees what cruelties lurk in the 
facts behind the words. To grieve, fret, pine, 
mourn, bleed, chafe, yearn, droop, sink, give way 
to despair, all belong to the category of worry. 

Phrases like "to sit on thorns," "to be on pins 
and needles," "to drain the cup of misery to the 
dregs," show with graphic power the folly and 
curse of worry. Why should one sit on thorns, 
or on pins and needles? If one does so accident- 
ally he arises in a hurry, yet in worrying, one 

49 



QUIT YOUR WORRYING 

seems deliberately, with intent, to sit down upon 
prickles in order to compel himself to discomfort, 
distress, and pain. Is there any wisdom, when one 
has the cup of misery at his lips, in deliberately 
keeping it there, and persistently drinking it to 
the "very dregs"? One unconsciously feels like 
shouting to the drinker : "Put it down, you fool !" 
and if the harsh command be not instantly obeyed, 
rushing up and dashing it out of the drinker's 
hand. 

Take a few more words and look at them, and 
see how closely they are related to worry, — to be 
displeased, fretted, annoyed, incommoded, discom- 
posed, troubled, disquieted, crossed, teased, 
fretted, irked, vexed, grieved, afflicted, distressed, 
plagued, bothered, pestered, bored, harassed, per- 
plexed, haunted. These things worry does to 
those who yield themselves to its noxious power. 

Worry deliberately pains, wounds, hurts, 
pinches, tweaks, grates upon, galls, chafes, gnaws, 
pricks, lancinates, lacerates, pierces, cuts, gravels, 
corrodes, mortifies, shocks, horrifies, twinges and 
gripes its victims. 

50 



HOLY WRIT, THE SAGES, AND WORRY 

It smites, beats, punishes, wrings, harrows, tor- 
ments, tortures, racks, scarifies, crucifies, con- 
vulses, agonizes, irritates, provokes, stings, net- 
tles, maltreats, bites, snaps at, assails, badgers, 
harries, persecutes, those who give it shelter. 

Is it not apparent, then, that the only course 
open for a sensible man or woman is to 

QUIT WORRYING. 



51 



Chapter V 

THE NEEDLESSNESS AND USELESSNESS 
OF WORRY 

V-/F all the mental occupations fallen into, in- 
vented, or discovered by man, the most needless, 
futile, and useless of all is the occupation of worry. 
We have heard it said often, when one was speak- 
ing of another's work, or something he had done: 
"He ought to be in a better business." So, in 
every case, can it be said of the worrier: He's in 
a bad business ; a business that ought not to exist, 
one without a single redeeming feature. If for 
no other reason the fact implied by the title of 
this chapter ought to be sufficient to condemn it. 
Worry is needless, useless, futile, of none effect. 
Why push a heavy rock up a mountain side merely 
to have it roll down again? Yet one might find 
good in the physical development that came from 
this needless uphill work. And he might laugh, 



THE NEEDLESSNESS OF WORRY 

and sing, and be cheery while he was doing it. 
But in the case of the worrier he not only pushes 
the rock up the hill, but he is beset with the dread 
that, every moment, it is going to roll back and 
kill him, and he thinks of nothing but the fear, 
and the strain, and the distress. 

When one calmly considers, it is almost too 
ridiculous to write seriously about the needless- 
ness and uselessness of worry ; its futility is so 
self-evident to an intelligent mind. Yet, because 
so many otherwise intelligent and good people are 
cursed by it, it seems necessary to show its utter 
uselessness. These say: "I would stop worrying 
if I could ; but I can't help it ; I worry in spite of 
myself!" 

Don't you believe it ! You doubtless think your 
statement is true, but it is nothing of the kind. 
Worry could find no place in your mind if it was 
full to overflowing with something really useful 
and beneficial. It is a proof either that your mind 
bosses you, — in other words, that you cannot 
direct it to think upon something worth while, 
that it is absolutely untrained, undisciplined, un- 
53 



QUIT YOUR WORRYING 

controlled, — or that it is so empty, it takes to 
worry as a refuge against its own vacuity. The 
fact of worry implies either that the worrier has 
no control over his mind, or has an empty mind. 

Now no intelligent person will, for one moment, 
confess to such weakness of mind that he has no 
control over it. An unoccupied mind can always 
be occupied if one so wills. No human being is 
so constituted that nothing appeals to him or 
interests him, so every mind can be awakened and 
filled with contemplation of good things — things 
that will help, benefit and bless, if he so desires. 

In the Foreword I have referred to my own 
experience. Many who knew some of the facts 
and saw the change that came over my life, have 
asked me how I succeeded in eliminating worry. I 
refused to allow my mind to dwell upon harassing 
topics or events in my life. If I awoke during 
the night, I turned on the light and picked up a 
bookjmd forced my thought into another channel. 
If the objectionable thoughts obtruded during the 
day I did one of many things, as, for instance, 
turned to my work wif;h a frenzy of absorption; 

54 



THE NEEDLESSNESS OF WORR^ 

picked up my hat and went for a walk ; called upon 
friends ; went to a concert ; or a vaudeville show ; 
took in a lecture ; stood and watched the crowds ; 
visited the railway stations — anything, every- 
thing, but dwell upon the subjects that were 
tabooed. 

Here was a simple and practical remedy, and I 
found it worked well. But I can now see that 
there was a much better way. Where good is 
substituted for evil one has "the perfect way," 
and the Apostle Paul revealed himself a wise man 
of practical affairs, when he urged his readers to 
"think on the things" that are lovely, pure, just, 
and of good report. In my case I merely sought 
to prevent mental vacuity so that the seven devils 
of worry could not rush into, and take possession 
of, my empty mind; but I was indifferent, some- 
what, to the kind of thought or mental occupation 
that was to keep out the thoughts of worry. A 
Nick Carter detective story was as good as a 
Browning poem, and sometimes better; a cheap 
and absurd show than an uplifting lecture or con- 
cert. How much better it would have been could 
55 



QUIT YOUR WORRYING 

I have had my mind so thoroughly under control 
— and this control can surely be gained by any 
and every man, woman, and child that lives, — 
that, when worrying thoughts obtruded, I could 
have said immediately and with authoritative 
power: I will to think on this thing, or that, or 
the other. The result would have been an imme- 
diate and perfect cessation of the worry that dis- 
turbed, fretted, and destroyed, for the mind would 
have become engaged with something that was 
beneficial and helpful. And remember this: God 
is good, and it is His pleasure to help those who 
are seeking to help themselves. Or to put it in 
a way that even our agnostic friends can receive, 
Nature is on the side of the man or woman who 
is seeking to live naturally, that is, rightly. 
Hence, substitute good thoughts for the worrying 
thoughts and the latter will fade away as do the 
mist and fog before the morning sun. 

Here, then, I had clearly demonstrated for my- 
self the needlessness of worry: / could prevent it 
if I would. And my readers cannot too soon gain 
this positive assurance. They can, if they will. 

m 



THE NEEDLESSNESS OF WORRY 

It is simply a question of wanting to be free 
earnestly enough to work for freedom. Is free- 
dom from worry worth while; is it worth strug- 
gling for? To me, it is one of the great blessings 
of life that worry is largely, if not entirely, elimi- 
nated. I would not go back to the old worrying 
days for all the wealth of Morgan, Rockefeller, 
and Carnegie combined. 

As for the uselessness of worry ; who is there, 
that has studied the action of worry, that ever 
found any of the problems it was concerned over 
improved by all the hours of worry devoted to it. 
Worry never solved a problem yet ; worry muddies 
the water still further instead of clearing it; 
worry adds to the tangle instead of releasing it; 
worry beclouds the mind, prevents sane judg- 
ment, confuses the reason, and leads one to de- 
cisions that never ought to be made, and so to an 
uncertainty, as vexatious and irritating as is the 
original problem to be solved. If the worry 
pointed a way out of the difficulty I would extol 
worry and regard it as a bitter draught of medi- 
cine, to be swallowed in a hurry, but producing 
57 



QUIT YOUR WORRYING 

a beneficial result. But it never does anything 
to help ; it invariably hinders ; it sets one chasing 
shadows, produces ignes fatui before the eyes, 
and ultimately leads one into the bog. 

Elsewhere I have referred to the Indians' atti- 
tude of mind. If a matter can be changed, change 
it; if not grin and bear it without complaint. 
Here is practical wisdom. But to worry over a 
thing that can be changed, instead of changing it, 
is the height of folly, and if a matter cannot be 
changed why worry over it? How utterly useless 
is the worry. Then, too, worry is the parent of 
nagging. Nagging is worry put into words, — 
the verbal expression of worry about or towards 
individuals. The mother wishes her son would do 
differently. Can the boy's actions be changed? 
Then go to work to change them — not to worry 
over them. If they cannot be changed, why nag 
him, why irritate him, why make a bad matter 
worse? Nagging, like worry, never once did one 
iota of good; it has caused infinite harm, as it 
sets up an irritation between those whose love 
might overcome the difficulty if it were let alone. 

58 



THE NEEDLESSNESS OF WORRY 

Nagging is the constant irritation of a wound, 
the rubbing of a sore, the salting an abraded 
place, the giving a hungry man a tract, religious 
advice or a bible, when all he craves is food. 

Ah, mother! many a boy has run away from 
home because your worry led you to nag him; 
many a girl to-day is on the streets because 
father or mother nagged her; many a husband 
has "gone on a tear" because he could not face his 
wife's "worry put into words," even though no 
one would attempt to deny that boy, girl and 
husband alike were wrong in every particular/ 
and the "nagger" in the right, save in the one 
thing of worry and its consequent nagging. 

In watching the lives of men and women I have 
been astonished, again and again, that the fruit- 
lessness of their worry did not demonstrate its use- 
lessness to them. No good ever comes from it. 
Everybody who has any perception sees this, 
agrees to it, confesses it. Then why still persist 
in it? Yet they do, and at the same time expect 
to be regarded as intelligent, sane, normal human 
beings, many of whom claim, as members of 

59 



QUIT YOUR WORRYING 

churches, peculiar and close kinship with God, 
forgetful of the fact that every moment spent 
in worry is dishonoring to God. 

How much needless anxiety, care, and absolute 
torture some women suffer in an insane desire to 
keep their homes spotlessly clean. The house 
must be without a speck of dirt anywhere ; the kit- 
chen must be as spotless as the parlor; the sink 
must be so immaculate that you could eat from it, 
if necessary ; the children must always be in their 
best bibs and tuckers and appear as Little Lord 
Fauntleroys ; and no one, at any time, or any cir- 
cumstance, must ever appear to be dirty, except 
the scavenger who comes to remove the accumulat- 
ed debris of the kitchen, and the man who occasion- 
ally assists the gardener. 

These people forget that all dirt and dust is not 
of greater value than spotless cleanliness. Let us 
look calmly at the problem for a few minutes. 
Here is a housewife who cannot afford help to 
keep her house as spotless as her instincts and her 
training desire. It is simply impossible for her, 
personally, to go over the house daily with rag, 

60 



THE NEEDLESSNESS OF WORRY 

duster and dustpan. If she attempts it, as she 
does sometimes — she overworks, and a breakdown 
is the result. What, then, is the sensible, the rea- 
sonable, the only thing she should do? Sit down 
and "worry" over her "untidy house" ; lament that 
"the stairs have not been swept since day before 
yesterday ; that the parlor was not dusted this 
morning; the music-room looks simply awful," and 
cry that "if Mrs. Brown were to come in and see my 
wretchedly untidy house, I'm sure I should die of 
shame!" Would this help matters? Would one 
speck of dirt be removed as the result of the 
worry, the wailing, and the tears? Not a speck. 
Every particle would remain just as before. 

Yet other things would not be as they were 
before. No woman could feel as I have suggested 
this "worriting creature" felt, without gendering 
irritation in husband, children and friends. Is 
any house that was ever built worth the alienation 
of dear ones? What is the dust, dirt, disorder, 
of a really untidy house — I am supposing an extra- 
ordinary case — compared with the irritation 
caused by a worrying housewife? 

61 



QUIT YOUR WORRYING 

Furthermore: such a woman is almost sure to 
break down her own health and become an irritable 
neurasthenic or hypochondriac, and thus add to 
the burdens of those she loves. 

There are women who, instead of following this 
course, make themselves wretched — and everyone 
else around them — by the worry of contrasting 
their lot with that of some one more fortunately 
situated than they. She has a husband who earns 
more money than does hers ; such an one has a 
larger allowance and can „ afford more help — the 
worry, however, is the same, little matter what 
form it takes, and worry is the destructive thing. 

What, then, shall a woman do, who has to face 
the fact that she cannot gratify her desire to keep 
her house immaculate, either because she has not 
the strength to do it, or the money to hire it done. 
The old proverb will help her: "What can't be 
cured must be endured." There is wonderful help 
in the calm, full, direct recognition of unpleasant 
facts. Look them squarely in the face. Don't 
dodge them, don't deny them. Know them, under- 
stand them, then defy them to destroy your happi- 

62 



THE NEEDLESSNESS OF WORRY 

ncss. If you can't dust your house daily, dust 
it thrice a week, or twice, or once, and determine 
that you will be happy in spite of the dust. The 
real comfort of the house need not thereby be 
impaired, as there is a vast difference between your 
scrupulous cleanliness and careless untidiness. 
Things may be in order even though the floor has 
a little extra dust on, or the furniture has not been 
dusted for four days. 

"But," you say, "I am far less disturbed by the 
over work than I am by the discomfort that comes 
from the dust." Then all I can say is that you 
are wrongly balanced, according to my notion of 
things. Your health should be of far more value 
to you than your ideas of house tidiness, but you 
have reversed the importance of the two. Teach 
yourself the relative value of things. A hundred 
dollar bill is of greater value than one for five 
dollars, and the life of your baby more important 
than the value of the hundred dollar bill. Put first 
things first, and secondly, and tertiary, and 
quarternary things in their relative positions. 
Your health and self-poise should come first, the 

63 




QUIT YOUR WORRYING 

comfort and happiness of husband and family next, 

the more or less spotlessness and tidiness of the 

J 
house afterwards^^Then, if you cannot have your 



touse as tidy as you wish, resolutely resolve that 
you will not be disturbed. You will control your 
own life and not allow a dusty room — be it never 
so dusty — to destroy your comfort and peace of 
mind, and that of your loved ones. 

When a woman of this worrying type has child- 
ren she soon learns that she must choose between 
the health and happiness of her children and the 
gratification of her own passionate desire for spot- 
less cleanliness. This gratification, if permanently 
indulged in, soon becomes a disease, for surely 
only a diseased mind can value the spotlessness of 
a house more than the health, comfort, and happi- 
ness of children. Yet many women do — more's 
the pity. Such poor creatures should learn that 
there is a dirtiness that is far worse than dirt in a 
house — a dirtiness, a muddiness of mind, a clutter- 
ing of thought, a making of the mind a harboring 
place for wrong thoughts. Not wrong in the 
sense of immoral or wicked, as these words are 

64 



THE NEEDLESSNESS OF WORRY 

generally used, but wrong in this sense, viz., that 
reason shows the folly, the inutility, the impract- 
icability of attempting to bring up sane, healthy, 
happy, normal children in a household controlled 
by the idea that spotless cleanliness is the matter 
of prime importance to be observed. The dis- 
comfort of children, husband, mother herself are 
nothing as compared with keeping the house 
in perfect order. Any woman so obsessed should 
be sent for a short time to an insane asylum, for 
she certainly has so reversed the proper order of 
values as to be so far insane. She has "cluttered 
up" her mind with a wrong idea, an idea which 
dirties, muddies, soils her mind far worse than dust 
soils her house. 

Reader, keep your mind free from such dirt — 
for dirt is but "matter in the wrong place." Far 
better have dust, dirt, in your house, dirt on your 
child's hands, face, and clothes, than on your own 
mind to give you worry, discomfort and disease. 



65 



Chapter VI 

THE SELFISHNESS OF WORRY 

1 F worry merely affected the one who worries it 
might be easier, in many cases, to view worry 
with equanimity and calmness. But, unfortun- 
ately, in the disagreeable features of life, far more 
than the agreeable, the aphorism of the apostolic 
writer, "No man liveth unto himself," seems to 
be more than ordinarily true. It is one proof of 
the selfishness of the "worrier" — whether con- 
sciously or unconsciously I do not say — that he 
never keeps his worry to himself. He must al- 
ways "out with it." The nervous mother worry- 
ing about her baby shows it even to the uncon- 
scious child at her breast. When the child is 
older she still shows it, until the little one knows 
as well as it knows when the sun is shining that 
"mother is worrying again." The worrying wife 
does not keep her worry to herself; she pours it 

66 



THE SELFISHNESS OF WORRY 

out to, or upon, her husband. The worrying 
husband is just the same. If it is the wife that 
causes him to worry — or to think so — he pours 
out his worry in turbulent words, thus adding 
fuel to a fire already too hot for comfort. 

It is one of the chief characteristics of worry 
that it is seldom confined to the breast of its vic- 
tim. It loses its power, too often, when shut up. 
It must find expression in looks, in tone of voice, 
in sulkiness, in dumps, in nagging or in a voicing 
of its woes. 

It is in this voicing of itself that worry demon- 
strates its inherent selfishness. If father, mother, 
wife, friends, neighbors, anybody can give help, 
pleasure, joy, instruction, profit, their voices are 
always heard with delight. If they have reason- 
able cautions to give to those they love, who 
seem to them to be thoughtless, regardless of 
danger which they see or fear, or even foolhardy, 
let them speak out bravely, courageously, lovingly, 
and they will generally be listened to. But to have 
them voice their fretful, painful, distressing 
worries no one is benefitted, and both speaker 

67 



QUIT YOUR WORRYING 

and the one spoken to are positively harmed. 
For an unnecessary fear voiced is strengthened; 
it is made more real. If one did not feel it before, 
it is now planted in his mind to his serious detri- 
ment, and once there, it begins to breed as disease 
germs are said to breed, by millions, and one 
moment of worry weds another moment, and the 
next moment a family of worries is born that sur- 
round, hamper and bewilder. Is this kindly, is it 
helpful, is it loving, is it unselfish? 

The questions answer themselves. The plant- 
ing of worry in the mind of another is heartless, 
cruel, unkind and selfish. 

Another question naturally arises: If this 
course of action is selfish, and the worrier really 
desires to be unselfish, how can he control his 
worry, at least so as not to communicate it to 
another? The answer also is clear. 

Let him put a guard upon his lips, a watch upon 
his actions. Let him say to himself: Though I 
do not, for my own sake, care to control the need- 
less worries of my life, I must not, I dare not 
curse other lives with them. Hence I must at 
68 






THE SELFISHNESS OF WORRY 

least keep them to myself — I must not voice them, 
I must not display them in face, eyes or tone. 

Then there is the mother who worries over her 
child's clothing. She is never ceasing in her 
cautions. It is "don't, don't, don't," from morn- 
ing to night, and whether this seems "nagging" 
to her or not, there would be a unanimous vote 
on the subject were the child consulted as to his 
feelings. Of course the boy, the girl, must be 
taught to take care of his, her, clothes, but this 
is never done by nagging. A far better plan 
would be to fit a punishment which really belongs 
to the evil or careless habit of the child. For in- 
stance, if a boy will persist in throwing his hat 
anywhere, instead of hanging it up, let the parent 
give him one caution, not in a threatening or 
angry way, but in just as matter of fact a fashion 
as if she were telling him of some news : "John, the 
next time you fail to hang your hat in its proper 
place I shall lock it up for three days !" 

Then, if John fails, take the hat and lock it up, 
and let it stay locked-up, though the heavens fall. 
The same with a child's playthings, tennis rac- 
69 



QUIT YOUR WORRYING 

cmets, base-balls, bats, etc. As a rule one appli- 
cation of the rule cures. This is immeasurably 
more sensible than nagging, for it produces the 
required result almost instantly, and there is little 
irritation to either person concerned, while nag- 
ging is never effective, and irritates both all the 
time. 

Other parents worry considerably over their 
children getting in the dirt. 

In an article which recently appeared in Good 
Housekeeping Dr. Woods Hutchinson says some 
sensible things on "Children as Cabbages." He 
starts out by saying: "It is well to remember 
that not all dirt is dirty. While some kinds of 
dirt are exceedingly dangerous, others are abso- 
lutely necessary to life." 

If your children get into the dirty and dan- 
gerous dirt, spend your energies in getting them 
into the other kind of dirt, rather than in 
nagging. Fall into the habit of doing the wise, 
the rational, the sane thing, because it produces 
results, rather than the foolish, irrational, insane 
thing which never produces a result save anger, 
70 



THE SELFISHNESS OF WORRY 

irritation, and oftentimes, alienation. 

In a little book written by J. J. Bell, entitled 
Wee MacGregor y there is a worrying mother. 
Fortunately she is sweet-spirited with it all, or it 
would have been unbearable. 

She and her husband John, and the baby, wee 
Jeannie, with Macgregor were going out to dinner 
at "Aunt Purdie's," who was "rale genteel an* 
awfu' easy offendit." The anxious mother was 
counselling her young son regarding his behavior 
at the table of that excellent lady: 

An' mind, Macgreegor, ye're no' to be askin' fur jeely 
till ye've ett twa bits o' breed-an'-butter. It's no' mainners; 
an' yer Aunt Purdie's rale partecclar. An' yer no' to dicht 
yer mooth wi' yer cuff — mind that. Ye're to tak' yer 
hanky an' let on ye're jist gi'ein* yer nib a bit wipe. An* 
ye're no' to scale yer tea nor sup the sugar if ony's left in 
yer cup when ye're dune drinkin'. An' if ye drap yer 
piece on the floor ye're no' to gang efter it; ye're jist to let 
on ye've ett it. An' ye're no' 

'Deed, Lizzie,' interposed her husband, 'ye're the yin to 
think aboot things.' 

Weel, John, if I dinna tell Macgreegor hoo to behave 
hissel', he'll affront me,' etc., etc., etc. 

Who has not thus seen the anxious mother? 
And who ever saw her worrying and anxiety do 
much if any good? Train your child by all 
71 



QUIT YOUR WORRYING 

means in your own home, but let up when you are 
going out, for your worry worries him, makes 
him self-conscious, brings about the very disasters 
you wish to avoid, and at the same time destroys 
his, your, and everyone's else, pleasure who ob- 
serves, feels, or hears the expressions of worry. 



n 



Chapter VII 

CAUSES OF WORRY 

VV ORRY is as multiform and as diverse as are 
the people who worry. Indeed worriers are the 
most ingenious persons in the world. When every 
possible source of worry seems to be removed, they 
proceed immediately to invent some new uause 
which an ordinary healthful mind could never have 
conceived. 

The causes of worry are innumerable. They 
represent the sum total of the errors, faults, 
missteps, unholy aims, ambitions, foibles, weak- 
nesses and crimes of men. Every error, mistake, 
we£|kn>ess, crime, etc., is a source of worry — 
a cause of worry. Worry is connected only with 
the weak, the human, the evil side of human nature. 
It has no place whatever in association with good- 
ness, purity, holiness, faith, courage and trust in 
God. When good men and women worry, in so 

73 



QUIT YOUR WORRYING 

far as they worry they are not good. Their worry 
is a sign of weakness, of lack of trust in God, of 
unbelief, of unfaithfulness. The man who knows 
God and his relationship to man ; who knows his 
own spiritual nature and his relationship to God 
never worries. There is no possible place in such 
a man's life for worry. 

Hence it will be seen that I believe worry to be 
evil, and nothing but evil, and, therefore, without 
one reclaiming or redeeming feature, for it can be 
productive of nothing but evil. 

If you really desire to know the sources of your 
worry study each worry as it comes up. Analyse 
it, dissect it, weigh it, examine it from every stand- 
point, judge it by the one test that everything in 
life must, and ought to submit to, viz.: its useful- 
ness. What use is it to you? How necessary to 
your existence? How helpful is it in solving the 
problems that confront you ; how far does it aid you 
in their solution, wherein does it remove the ob- 
stacles before your pathway. Find out how much 
it strengthens, invigorates, inspires you. Ask 
yourself how much it encourages, enheartens, em- 

74 



CAUSES OP WORRY 

boldens you. Put down on paper every slightest 
item of good, or help, or inspiration it is to you, 
and on the other hand, the harm, the discourage- 
ment, the evil, the fears it brings to you, and then 
strike a balance. 

I can tell you beforehand that after ten years' 
study — if so long were necessary — you will fail to 
find one good thing in favor of worry, and that 
every item you will enumerate will be against it. 
Hence, why worry? Quit it! 

Worry, like all evils, feeds on itself, and grows 
greater by its own exercise. Did it decline when 
exercised, diminish when allowed a free course, one 
might let it alone, even encourage it, in order that 
it might the sooner be dead. But, unfortunately, 
it works the other way. The more one worries the 
more he continues to worry. The more he yields 
to it the greater becomes its power. It is a species 
of hypnotism: once allow it to control, each new 
exercise diminishes the victim's power of resis- 
tance. 

Never was monster more cruel, more relentless, 
more certain to hang on to the bitter end than 

75 



QUIT YOUR WORRYING 

worry. He shows no mercy, has not the slightest 
spark of relenting or yielding. And his power is 
all the greater because it is so subtle. He wants 
you to be "careful" — taking good care, howevei, 
not to let you know that he means to make you 
full of care. He pleads "love" as the cause for 
his existence. He would have you love your child, 
hence "worry" about him. He thus trades on 
your affection to blind you to your child's best 
interests by "worrying" about him. For when 
worry besets you, is harassing you on every hand, 
how can you possibly devote your wisdom, your 
highest intelligence to safeguarding the welfare 
of the one you love. 

Never was a slave in the South, though in the 
hands of a Legree, more to be pitied than the slave 
of worry. He dogs every footstep, is vigilant 
every moment. He never sleeps, never tires, never 
relaxes, never releases his hold so long as it is 
possible for him to retain it. When you seek to 
awaken people to the terror, the danger, the hourly 
harm their slavery to worry is bringing to them, 
they are so completely in worry's power that 

76 



CAUSES OF WORRY 

they weakly respond : "But I can't help it." And 
they verily believe they can't ; that their bondage 
is a natural thing; a state "ordained from the 
foundation of the world," altogether ignoring the 
frightful reflection such a belief is upon the good- 
ness of God and his fatherly care for his children. 
Natural! It is the most unnatural thing in 
existence. Do the birds worry? The beasts 
of the field? The clouds? The winds? The 
sun, moon, stars, and comets? The trees? The 
flowers? _The rain-drops? ' How Bryant rebukes 
the worrier in his wonderful poem "To a Water 
Fowl," and Celia Thaxter in her "Sandpiper" 
The former sings of the fowl winging its solitary 
way where "rocking billows rise and sink on the 
chafed ocean-side," yet though "lone wandering" 
it is not lost. And from its protection he deduces 

the lesson : 

He who, from zone to zone, 
Guides through the boundless sky thy certain flight, 
In the long way that I must tread alone 

Will lead my steps aright. 

And so Celia Thaxter sang of the sandpiper: 
He has no thought of any wrong, 
He scans me with a fearless eye. 

77 



QUIT YOUR WORRYING 

And her faith expressed itself in a later verse: 

I do not fear for thee, though wroth 
The tempest rushes through the sky: 

For are we not God's children both, 
Thou, little sandpiper, and I? 

There is no worry in Nature. It is man alone 
that worries. Nature goes on her appointed way 
each day unperturbed, unvexed, care-free, doing 
her allotted tasks and resting absolutely in the 
almighty sustaining power behind her. Should 
man do any less? Should man — the reasoning 
creature, with intelligence to see, weigh, judge, 
appreciate, — alone be uncertain of the fatherly 
goodness of God; alone be unable to discern the 
wisdom and love behind all things ? Worry, there- 
fore, is an evidence that we do not trust the all- 
fatherliness of God. 

It is also the direct product of vanity, pride and 
self-conceit. If these three qualities of evil in the 
human heart could be removed a vast aggregate 
amount of worry would die instantly. No one can 
study his fellow creatures and not soon learn that 
an immense amount of worry is caused by these 
three evils. 

78 



CAUSES OF WORRY 

We are worried lest our claims to attention are 
not fully recognized, less our worth be not observed, 
our proper station accorded to us. How we press 
our paltry little claims upon others, how we glorify 
our own insignificant deeds; how large loom up 
our small and puny acts. The whole universe 
centers in us ; our ego is a most important thing ; 
our work of the highest value and significance; 
our worth most inestimable. 

The fact of the matter is most men and women 
are inestimable, their deeds of value, their lives of 
importance. Our particular circle needs us, as we 
need those who compose it, we are all important, 
but few, indeed, are there, whose power, influence 
and importance reach far. Most of the men and 
women of the world are ordinary. A man may be 
a king in Wall street, and yet influence but few 
outside of his own immediate sphere. Most prob- 
ably he is unknown to the great mass of mankind. 
Adventitious circumstances bring some men and 
women more prominently before the world than 
others, but even such fame as this is transient, 
evanescent, and of little importance. The devoted 

79 



QUIT YOUR WORRYING 

love of our own small circle ; the reliable friendship 
of the few ; the blind adoration of the pet dog are 
worth more than all the "fame," the "eclat,"' the 
"renown" of the multitude. And where we have 
such love, friendship, and blind adoration, let us 
rest content therein, and smile at the floods of 
temporary and evanescent emotion which sweep 
over the mob, but do not have us for their object. 
I have just read a letter which perfectly illus- 
trates how our vanity, our pride, and personal im- 
portance bring much worry to us. The writer — 
practically a stranger coming from a far-away 
state — evidently expected to be received with a 
cordial welcome and open arms, by one who scarce- 
ly knew him, given an important place in a lengthy 
program where men of national reputation were 
to speak, and generally be treated with deference 
and respect. Unfortunately his name was not 
placed in full on the program, — curtly initialed 
he called it — and owing to its length "the chair- 
man caused me to spoil my remarks by asking me 
to shorten them," and a hotel clerk "outrageously 
insulted'' him when he asked for information. 
80 



CAUSES OF WORRY 

Then, to make ill matters worse — piling Ossa 
upon Pelion — he was asked to speak at a certain: 
club, with others. One of the newspapers, in re- 
porting the event, commented upon what the others 
said and did but ignore him. This he thought 
might have been merely an oversight, but when, 
the next day, he saw another report wherein he was 
not mentioned he was certain "it was a deliberate 
intention to ignore" him. He then asks that the 
person to whom he writes "try to find out who is re- 
sponsible for this affront," and tell him — in order 
that he may worry some more, I suppose, over 
trying to "get back at him." 

Poor, poor fellow, how he is to be pitied for be- 
ing so "sensitive," so sure that people regard him 
enough to want to affront him. 

Here is a perfect illustration of the worries 
caused by vanity ; five complaints in one letter, of 
indignities, or affronts, that an ordinary, robust 
red-blooded man would have passed by without 
notice. If I were to worry over the times I have 
been ignored and neglected I should worry every 

81 



QUIT YOUR WORRYING 

day. I am fairly well known to many hundreds 
of thousands of people who read my books, my 
magazine articles, and hear my lectures, yet I often 
go to cities and there are no brass bands, no com- 
mittee, flowers, or banquet to welcome me. No ! 
indeed, the indignity is thrust upon me of having to 
walk to the hotel, carry my own grip, and register, 
the same as any other ordinary, common, everyday 
man ! Why should not my blood boil when I think 
of it? Then, too, when I recall how often my 
addresses are ignored in the local press, ought not 
I to be aroused to fierce ire? When a hotel clerk 
fails to recognize my national importance and 
gives me a flippant answer when I ask for informa- 
tion should I not deem it time that the Secretary 
of State interfere and write a State paper upon the 
matter ? 

Oh vanity, conceit, pride, how many sleepless 
hours of worry and fret you bring to your victims, 
and the pitiable, the lamentable thing about it all 
is that they congratulate themselves upon being fil- 
led with "laudable pride," "recognizing their own 
importance,'' and knowing that "honorable am- 



CAUSES OF WORRY 

bition" is beneficial. Nothing that causes un- 
necessary heart-aches and worry is worth while, 
and of all the prolific causes of these woes com- 
mend me to the vanity, the conceit, the pride of 
small minds and petty natures. 

False pride leads its victim to want to make a 
false impression. He puts on a false appearance. 
He wishes to appear wiser, better, in easier circum- 
stances, richer than he is. He wears a false front. 
He is unnatural. He dare not — having decided 
to make the appearance, and win the impression 
of falseness — be natural. Hence he is self-con- 
scious all the time lest he make a slip, contradict 
himself, lose the result he is seeking to attain. He 
is to be compared to an actor whose part requires 
him to wear a wig, a false moustache, a false chin. 
In the hurry of preparation these shams are not 
adjusted properly and the actor rushes on the 
stage fearful every moment lest his wig is awry, his 
moustache fall off, or the chin slip aside and make 
him ridiculous. He dare not stop to make sure, 
to "fix'' them if they are wrong, as that would 

83 



QUIT YOUR WORRYING 

reveal their falsity immediately. He can only 
play on, sweating blood the while. 

In the case of the actor one can laugh at the 
temporary fear and worry, but what a truly piti- 
able object is the man, the woman, whose whole 
life is one dread worry lest his, her, false appear- 
ance be discovered. And while pride and vanity 
are not the only sources of these attempts to make 
false impressions upon others they are a most pro- 
lific source. In another chapter I have treated 
more fully of this phase of the subject. 

Wastefulness, extravagance, is a prolific source 
of worry. Spend to-day, starve to-morrow. 
Throw your money to the birds to-day ; to-morrow 
the crow, jay, and vulture will laugh and mock at 
you. Feast to-day; next week you may starve. 
Riches take to themselves wings and fly away. No 
one is absolutely safe, and while many thousands 
go through life indifferent about their expendi- 
tures, wasteful and extravagant and do not seem 
to be brought to time therefor, it must not be for- 
gotten that tens of thousands start out to do' the 
same thing and fail. What is the result? Worry 

84 



CAUSES OF WORRY 

over the folly of the attempt ; worry as to where 
the necessary things for the future are coming 
from! 

While I would not have the well-to-do feel that 
they must be niggardly I would earnestly warn 
them against extravagance, against the acquiring 
of expensive habits of wastefulness that later on 
may be chains of a cruel bondage. Why forge 
fetters upon oneself? Far better be free now and 
thus cultivate freedom for whatever future may 
come. For as sure as sure can be wilful waste 
and reckless extravagance now will sometime or 
other produce worry. 

One great, deep, awful source of worry is out 
failure to accept the inevitable. Something hap- 
pens, — we wilfully shut our eyes to the fact that 
this something has changed forever the current of 
our lives, and if the new current seems evil, if it 
brings discomfort, separation, change of circum- 
stance, etc., we worry, and worry, and continue to 
worry. This is lamentably foolish, utterly absurd 
and altogether reprehensible. Lot us resolutely 
face the facts, accept them, and then reshape our 
85 / 



QUIT YOUR WORRYING 

/lives, bravely and valiantly, to suit the new con- 

Vditions. 

For instance a friend of mine spent twenty years 
in the employ of a great corporation. As a re- 
ward of faithful service he was finally put in a 
responsible position as the head of a department. 
A few months ago he was sent East on a special 
mission connected with his work. Just before his 
return the corporation elected a new president, 
who "shook up" the whole concern, changed around 
several officials, dismissed others, and in the case 
of my friend, supplanted him by a new man im- 
ported from the East, offering him a subordinate 
position, but, at the same salary he had before 
been receiving. 

How should this man have treated this settled 
fixed fact in his life? He had two great broad 
pathways open to him. In one he would deliber- 
ately recognize and accept the changed condition, 
acquiese in it and live accordingly. It is not 
pleasant to be supplanted, but if another man is 
appointed to do the work you have been doing, 
and your superiors think he can do it better than 

86 



CAUSES OF WORRY 

you have been doing it, then manfully face the 
facts and accord him the most sincere and hearty 
support. It may be hard, but our training and 
discipline, — which means our improvement and ad- 
vancement — come, not from doing the easy and 
pleasant things, but from striving, cheerfully and 
pleasantly to do the arduous and disagreeable ones. 

The other way open for my friend was to resent 
the change, accept it with anger, let his vanity be 
wlounded, and begin to worry over it. What 
would have been the probable result ? The moment 
he began to worry his efficiency would have de- 
creased, and he would thus have prepared himself 
for another "blow" from his employers, another 
change less to his advantage, and with a 
possible reduction in salary. His employers, too, 
would have pointed to his decreased efficiency — the 
only thing they consider — as justification for their 
act. 

I would not say that if a man, in such a case 
as I have described, deems that he has been treated 
unjustly, should not protest, but, when he has pro- 
tested, and a decision has been rendered against 
87 



QUIT YOUR WORRYING 

him let him accept the judgment with serenity, 
refuse to worry over it, and go to work with loyalty 
and faithfulness, or else seek new employment. 

Even, on the other hand, were he to have been 
discharged, there could have come no good from 
yielding to worry. Accept the inevitable, do not 
argue or fret about it, put worry aside, go to work 
to find a new position, and make what seemed to 
be an evil the stepping-stone to something better. 

Mrs. Jessie Benton Fremont, the wife of the 
gallant pathfinder, General Fremont, was afflicted 
with deafness in the later years of her life. She, — - 
the petted and flattered, the caressed and spoiled 
child of fortune, the honored and respected woman 
of power and superior ability — deaf, and unable 
to participate in the conversation going on around 
her. Many a woman under these conditions, would 
have become irritable, irascible, and a reviler of 
Fate. To any woman it would have been a great 
deprivation, but to one mentally endowed as Mrs. 
Fremont, it was especially severe. Yet did she 
"worry" about it.? No! bravely, cheerfully, 
boldly, she accepted the inevitable, and in effect 
88 



CAUSES OF WORRY 

defied the deafness that had come to her to destroy 
her happiness, embitter her life, take away the ser- 
enity of her mind and the equipoise of her soul. 
If there had to be a battle to gain this high plane 
of acceptance, she fought it out in secret, for her 
friends and the world never heard a word of a 
murmur from her. I had the joy of a talk with 
her about it, for it was a joy to have her make 
light of her affliction, in the great number of good 
things wherein God had blessed her. Laughingly 
she said: "Even in deafness I find many compen- 
sations. One is never bored by conversation that 
is neither intelligent, instructive or interesting. 
I can go to sleep under the most persistent flood 
of boredom, and like the proverbial water on a 
duck's back it never bothers me. Again, I never 
hear the unpleasant things said about cither my 
friends or my enemies, and what a blessing that 
is. I am also spared hearing about many of the 
evils, the disagreeable, the unpleasant and horrible 
things of life that I cannot change, help, or allev- 
iate, and I am thankful for my ignorance. Then, 
89 



QUIT YOUR WORRYING 

again, when people say things that I can and do 
hear — in my trumpet — that I don't think anyone 
should ever say, I can rebuke them by making them 
think that I heard them say the very opposite of 
what they did say, and I smile upon them 'and am 
a villain still.' " 

Charles F. Lummis, the well-known litterateur 
and organizer of the South-West Museum, of Los 
Angeles, after using his eyes and brain more lib- 
erally than most men do in a lifetime thrice, or four 
times as long as his, was unfortunately struck 
blind. Did he "worry" over it, and fret himself 
into a worse condition? No! not for a moment. 
Cheerfully he accepted the inevitable, got someone 
to read and write for him, to guide him through 
the streets, and went ahead with his work just as 
if nothing had happened, looking forward to the 
time when his eyesight would be restored to him 
and hopefully and intelligently worked to that 
end. In a year or so he and his friends were made 
happy by that coming to pass, but even had it not 
been so, I am assured Dr. Lummis would have faced 

90 



CAUSES OF WORRY 

the inevitable without a whimper, a cry, or a word 
of worry or complaint. 

Those who yield to worry over small physical 
ills should read his inspiring My Friend Will* 
a personal record of his sucessful struggle against 
two severe and prostrating attacks of paralysis. 
One perusal will show them the folly and futility 
of worry ; a second will shame them because they 
have so little self-control as to spend their time, 
strength, and energy in worry; and a third per- 
usal will lead them to drive every fragment of wor- 
ry out of the hidden recesses of their minds and 
set them upon a better way — a way of serenity, 
equipoise, and healthful, strenuous, yet joyous 
and radiant living. 

Recently I had a conversation with the former 
superintendent of a poor farm, which bears upon 
this subject in a practical way. In relating some 
of his experiences he told of a "rough-neck" — a 
term implying an ignorant man of rude, turbulent, 
quarrelsome disposition — who had threatened to 

•My Friend Will, by C. F. Lummis, A. C. McClurg Co., 
Chicago. 

91 



QUIT YOUR WORRYING 

kill the foreman of the farm. Owing to their ir- 
reconcilable differences the rough inmate decided 
to leave and so informed the superintendent, thus 
practically dismissing himself from the institution. 
A year later he returned and asked to be re-admit- 
ted. After a survey of the whole situation the 
superintendent decided that it was not wise to re- 
admit him, and that he would better secure a situa- 
tion for him outside. He offered to do so and the 
man left apparently satisfied. Three days later 
he reappeared, entered the office with a loaded and 
cocked revolver held behind his back, and abruptly 
announced: "I've come to blow out your brains." 
Before he could shoot the superintendent was upon 
him and a fierce struggle ensued for the possession 
of the weapon. The superintendent at last took 
it away, secured help and handcuffed the would-be 
murderer. Realizing that his act was the result 
of at least partial insanity, the was-to-be victim 
did not press the charge of murderous assault but 
allowed — indeed urged that he be sent to the insane 
asylum where he now is. 

Now this is the point I wish to make, It is 

n 



CAUSES OF WORRY 

perfectly within the bounds of possibility that 
this man will some day be regarded as safely sane. 
Yet it is well known by the awful experiences of 
many such cases that it is both possible and pro- 
bable that during the months or years of his in- 
carceration he will continue to harbor, even to feed 
and foster the bitter feeling, the hatred, perhaps, 
that led him to attempt the murder of the superin- 
tendent, and that on his release he will again at- 
tempt to carry out his nefarious and awful design. 
What, then, should be the mental attitude of the 
superintendent and his family? Ought they not 
to be worried? I got the answer for my readers 
from this man, and it is so perfectly in accord 
with my own principles that I find great pleasure 
in recording it. Said he: 

Don't think for one moment that I minimize the possible 
danger. The asylum physician who was familiar with the 
whole circumstances warned me not to rest in fancied 
security. I have notified the proper officials that the man 
who attempted to murder me is not to be released either 
as cured or on parole without giving me sufficient notice. 
I do not wish that he should be kept in the asylum a single 
day longer than is fully necessary, but before I allow him 
to be released I must be thoroughly satisfied that he has no 
murderous designs on me, and that he is truly and satis- 
factorily repentant for the attack he made when, ostensibly, 

93 



QUIT YOUR WORRYING 

he was mentally irresponsible. I shall require that he be 
put on record as fully understanding and appreciating his 
own personal responsibility for my safety — so that should 
he still hold any wrongful designs, and afterwards succeed 
in carrying them out, he or his attorneys will be debarred 
from again pleading insanity or mental incompetency. 

Hence while I fully realize the possibility of danger I do 
not have a moment's worry about it. I have done and shall 
do all I can, satisfactorily, to protect myself, without any 
feeling of harshness or desire to injure the poor fellow, and 
there I let the matter rest to take care of itself. 

This is practical wisdom. This is sane philo- 
sophy. Not ignoring the danger, pooh-pooing it, 
scoffing at it and refusing to recognize it, but 
calmly, sanely, with a kindly heart looking at pos- 
sible contingencies, preparing for them, and then 
serenely trusting to the spiritual forces of life to 
control events to a wise and satisfactory issue. 

Can you suggest anything better? Is not such 
a course immeasurably better than to allow himself 
to worry, and fret and fear all the time? Practi- 
cal precaution, taken without enmity — note these 
italicized words — trustful serenity, faithful per- 
formance of present duty unhampered by fears and 
worries — this is the rational, normal, philosophic, 
sane course to follow. 

Another great source of worry is our failure to 
distinguish essentials from non-essentials. What 
94 



CAUSES OF WORRY 

are the essentials for life? For a man, honesty, 
truth, earnestness, strength, health, ability to 
work, and work to do. He may or may not be hand- 
some; he may or may not have wealth, position, 
fame, education ; but to be a man among men, these 
other things he must have. For a woman, — health, 
love, work, and such virtues as both men and wo- 
men need. She might enjoy friends, but they 
are not essential as health or work; she would be 
a strange woman if she did not prize beauty, but 
devoted love is worth far more than beauty or all 
the conquests it brings. What is the essential 
for a chair? — its capacity to be used to sit upon 
with comfort. A house? — that it is adapted to 
the making of a home. You don't buy a printing- 
press to curl your hair with but to print, and in ac- 
cordance with its printing power is it judged. A 
boat's usefulness is determined by its worthiness 
in the water, to carry safely, rapidly, largely as 
is demanded of it. 

This is the judgement sanity demands of every- 
thing. What is essential — What not? Is it es- 
sential to be a society leader, to belong to every 
95 



QUIT YOUR WORRYING 

club, to hold office, to give as many dinners as one's 
neighbors, to have a bigger house, furniture with 
brighter polish, bigger carvings and more ugly 
designs than anyone else in town, to have our names 
in the papers oftener than others, to have more 
servants, a newer style automobile, put on more 
show, pomp, ceremony and circumstance than our 
friends ? 

By no means ! Oh for men and women who 
have the discerning power — the sight for the es- 
sential things, the determination to have them and 
let non-essentials go. They are the wise ones, the 
happy ones, the free-from-worry ones. 

Later I shall refer extensively to Mrs. Canfield's 
book The Squirrel Cage. She has many wise utter- 
ances on this phase of the worry question. For 
instance, in referring to the mad race for wealth 
and position that keeps a man away from home so 
many hours of the day that his wife and child 
scarce know him she introduces the following dia- 
logue : 

One of them whose house isn't far from mine, told me 
that he hadn't seen his children, except asleep, for three 
weeks. 

96 



CAUSES OF WORRY 

'But something ought to be done about it!' The girl's 
deep-lying instinct for instant reparation rose up hotly. 

'Are they so much worse off than most American business 
men?' queried Rankin. 'Do any of them feel they can 
take the time to see much more than the outside of their 
Children; and isn't seeing them asleep about as — ' 

Lydia cut him short quickly. 'You're always blaming 
them for that,' she cried. 'You ought to pity them. They 
can't help it. It's better for the children to have bread 
and butter, isn't it — ' 

Rankin shook his head. 'I can't be fooled with that sort 
of talk — I've lived with too many kinds of people. At least 
half the time it is not a question of bread and butter. It's 
a question of giving the children bread and butter and 
sugar rather than bread and butter and father. Of course, 
I'm a fanatic on the subject. I'd rather leave off even the 
butter than the father — let alone the sugar.' 

Later on Lydia herself lost her father and after his death 
her own wail was: 'I never lived with my father. He was 
always away in the morning before I was up. I was away, 
or busy, in the evening when he was there. On Sundays 
he never went to church as mother and I did — I suppose 
now because he had some other religion of his own. But 
if he had I never knew what it was — or anything else that 
was in his mind or heart. It never occurred to me that I 
could. He tried to love me — I remember so many times 
now — and that makes me cry! — how he tried to love me! 
He was so glad to see me when I got home from Europe — 
but he never knew anything that happened to me. I told 
you once before that when I had pneumonia and nearly 
died mother kept it from him because he was on a big case. 
It was all like that — always. He never knew.' 

Dr. Melton broke in, his voice uncertain, his face horri- 
fied: 'Lydia, I cannot let you go on! you are unfair — you 
shock me. You are morbid! I knew your father inti* 

97 



QUIT YOUR WORRYING 

mately. He loved you beyond expression. He would have 
done anything for you. But his profession is an exacting 
one. Put yourself in his place a little. It is all or nothing 
in the law — as in business.' 

But Lydia replied: 'When you bring children into the 
world, you expect to have them cost you some money, don't 
you? You know you mustn't let them die of starvation. 
Why oughtn't you to expect to have them cost you thought, 
and some sharing of your life with them, and some time — 
real time, not just scraps that you can't use for business?' 

She made the same appeal once to her husband in regard 
to their own lives. She wanted to see and know more of 
him, his business, his inner life, and this was her cry: 'Paul, 
I'm sure there's something the matter with the way we live 
— I don't like it! I don't see that it helps us a bit— or 
anyone else— you're just killing yourself to make money 
that goes to get things we don't need nearly as much as 
we need more of each other! We're not getting a bit 
nearer to each other — actually further away, for we're both 
getting different from what we were without the other's 
knowing how! And we're not getting nicer — and what's 
the use of living if we don't do that? We're just getting 
more and more set on scrambling ahead of other people. 
And we're not even having a good time out of it! And 
here is Ariadne — and another one coming — and we've noth- 
ing to give them but just this — this — this — * 

Paul laughed a little impatiently, irritated and uneasy, 
as he always was at any attempt to examine too closely the 
foundations of existing ideas. 'Why, Lydia, what's the 
matter with you? You sound as though you'd been read- 
ing some fool socialist literature or something.' 

You know I don't read anything, Paul. I never hear 
about anything but novels. I never have time for anything 
else, and very likely I couldn't understand it if I read it, 
not having any education. That's one thing I want you 

98 



CAUSES OF WORRY 

to help me with. All I want is a chance for us to live 
together a little more, to have a few more thoughts in 
common, and oh ! to be trying to be making something better 
out of ourselves for our children's sake. I can't see that 
we're learning to be anything but — you, to be an efficient 
machine for making money, I to think of how to entertain 
as though we had more money than we really have. I 
don't seem really to know you or live with you any more 
than if we were two guests stopping at the same hotel. If 
socialists are trying to fix things better, why shouldn't we 
have time — both of us — to read their books; and you could 
help me know what they mean?' 

Paul laughed again, a scornful, hateful laugh, which 
brought the color up to Lydia's pale face like a blow. 'I 
gather, then, Lydia, that what you're asking me to do is 
to neglect my business in order to read socialistic literature 
with you?' 

His wife's rare resentment rose. She spoke with dignity: 
'I begged you to be serious, Paul, and to try to understand 
what I mean, although I'm so fumbling, and say it so 
badly. As for its being impossible to change things, I've 
heard you say a great many times that there are no con- 
ditions that can't be changed if people would really try — • 

'Good heavens ! I said that of business conditions !' 
shouted Paul, outraged at being so misquoted. 

'Well, if it's true of them — No; I feel that things are 
the way they are because we don't really care enough to 
have them some other way. If you really cared as much 
about sharing a part of your life with me — really sharing 
— as you do about getting the Washburn contract — ' 

Her indignant and angry tone, so entirely unusual, moved 
Paul, more than her words, to shocked protest. He looked 
deeply wounded, and his accent was that of a man right- 
eously aggrieved. 'Lydia, I lay most of this absurd out- 
break to your nervous condition, and so I can't blame you 

99 



QUIT YOUR WORRYING 

for it. But I can't help pointing out to you that it is 
entirely uncalled for. There are few women who have a 
husband as absolutely devoted as yours. You grumble 
about my not sharing my life with you — why, I give it to 
you entire!' His astonished bitterness grew as he voiced 
it. 'What am I working so hard for if not to provide for 
you and our child — our children! Good Heavens! What 
more can I do for you than to keep my nose on the grind- 
stone every minute. There are limits to even a husband's 
time and endurance and capacity for work.' 

Hence it will be seen that I would have one 
Quit Worrying about the non-essentials of life, 
and this is best done by giving full* heed to the 
essentials and letting the others go. Naturally, 
if one wilfully and purposefully determines to 
follow non-essentials, he may as well recognize the 
fact soon as late that he has deliberately chosen 
a course that cannot fail to produce its own many 
and irritating worries. 

Another serious cause of worry is bashfulness. 
One who is bashful finds in his intercourse with 
his fellows many worries. His hands and feet are 
too large, he blushes at a word, he doesn't know 
what to say or how, he is confused if attention is 
directed his way, his thoughts fly to the ends of 
the earth the moment he is addressed, and if he 
100 



CAUSES OF WORRY 

i 

is expected to say anything, his worries increase 
so that his pain and distress are manifest to all. 
To such an one I would say: Assert your 
manhood, your womanhood. Brace up. Face the 
music. Remember these facts. You are dealing 
with men and women, youths and maidens, of the 
same flesh and blood, mentality as yourself. You 
average up with the rest of them. Why should 
you be afraid? Call upon your reasoning power. 
Assert the dignity of your own existence. You 
are here by the will of God as much as they. 
There is a purpose in your creation as much as 
in theirs. You have a right to be seen and heard 
as well as have they. Your life may be charged 
with importance to mankind far more than theirs. 
Anyhow for what it is, large or small, you are 
going to use it to the full, and you do not pro^ 
pose to be laughed out of it, sneered out of it, 
either by the endeavors of others or by your own 
fears of others. Then, when you have once fully 
reasoned the thing out, do not hesitate to plunge 
into the fullest possible association with your fel- 
lows. Brave them, defy them (in your own heart), 

101 



QUIT YOUR WORRYING 

resolutely face them, and my word and assurance 
for it, they will lose their terror, and you will 
lose your bashfulness with a speed that will as- 
tonish you. 

Closely allied to bashfulness as a cause of many 
worries is hyper- or super-sensitiveness. And yet 
it is an entirely different mental attitude. Hyper- 
sensitiveness may cause bashfulness, but there are 
many thousands of hyper-sensitives who have not 
a spark of bashfulness in their condition. They 
are full of vanity or self-conceit. Elsewhere I 
have referred to one of these. Or they are hyper- 
sensitive in regard to their health. They mustn't 
do this, or that, or the other, they must be careful 
not to sit near a window, allow a door to be open, 
or go into an unwarmed room. Their feet must 
never be wet, or their clothing, and as for sleeping 
in a cold room, or getting up before the fire is 
lighted, they could not live through such awful 
hardships. 

I have no desire to excoriate or make fun of 
those who really suffer from chronic invalidism, 
yet I am fully assured that much of the hyper- 
102 



CAUSES OF WORRY 

sensitiveness of the neurasthenic and hypochon- 
driac could be removed by a little rude, rough and 
tumble contact with life. It would do most of 
these people no harm to follow the advice given 
by Abernethy, the great English physician, to a 
pampered, overfed hyper-sensitive: Live on six 
pence a day and earn it. I have found few lvyper- 
sensitives among the poor. Poverty is a fine cure 
for most cases, though there are those who cling 
to their pride of birth, of education, or God knows 
what of insane belief in their superiority over 
ordinary mortals, and make that the occasion, or 
cause, of the innumerable and fretting worries of 
hyper-sensitiveness. 

Another serious cause of worry, in this busy, 
bustling, rapid age, is the need we feel for hurry. 
We are caught in the mad rush and its influence 
leads us to feel that we, too, must rush. There 
is no earthly reason for our hurry, and yet we 
cannot seem to help it. 

Hurry means worry. Rush spells fret. Haste 
makes waste. You live in the country and are a 
commuter. You must be in the city on the stroke 
103 



QUIT YOUR WORRYING 

of nine. To do this, you must catch the 8:07. 
You have your breakfast to get and it takes six 
minutes to walk to the station. No one can do 
it comfortably in less. Yet every morning, ever 
since you took this country cottage, you have 
had to rush through your breakfast, and rush to 
the depot in order to catch the train. Thus 
starting the day on the rush, you have continued 
"on the stretch" all day, and get back home at 
night tired out, fretted and worried "almost to 
death." Even when you sii down to breakfast, 
you begin to worry if wifie doesn't have every- 
thing ready. You know you'll be late. You 
feel it, and if the toast and coffee are not on the 
table the moment you sit down, your querelous 
complaints strike the morning air. 

Now what's the use? 

Why don't you get up ten, fifteen, or twenty 
minutes earlier, and thus give yourself time to 
eat comfortably, and thus get over the worry of 
your rush? Set the alarm clock for 7 :00, or 6:4t5, 
or even 6:30. Far better get up half an hour 
too early, than worry yourself, your wife, and 
104* 



CAUSES OF WORRY 

the whole household by your insane hurry. Your 
worry is wholly unnecessary and shows a fearful 
lack of simple intelligence. 

Annie Laurie, who writes many sage counsels 
in the San Francisco Examiner, had an excellent 
article on this subject in the issue of December 
SI, 1915. She wrote: 

Here is something that I saw out my window — it has 
given me the big thought for my biggest New Year's reso- 
lution. The man at the corner house ran down the steps 
in a terrible hurry. He saw the car coming up the hill and 
whistled to it from the porch, but the man who was running 
the car did not hear the whistle. Anyway, he didn't stop the 
car, and the man on the steps looked as if he'd like to catch 
the conductor of that car and do something distinctly un- 
friendly to him, and do it right then and there. He jammed 
his hat down over his forehead and started walking very 
fast. 

"What's your hurry?" said the man he was passing on 
tne corner. "What's your hurry, Joe?" and the man on 
the corner held out his hand. 

"Well, I'll be ," said Joe, and he held out his hand, 

too, "if it isn't " 

And it was, and they both laughed and shook hands and 
clapped each other on the back and shook hands again. 

"What's your hurry?" said the man on the corner again. 

"I dun-no," said the man who was so cross because he'd 
lost his car. "Nothing much, I guess," and he laughed and 
the other man laughed and they shook hands again. And 
the last I saw of them they had started down the street 
right in the opposite direction from which the man in the 

105 



QUIT YOUR WORRYING 

hurry had started to go, and they weren't in a hurry at all. 

Do you know what I wished right then and there? I 
wished that every time I get into the senseless habit of 
rushing everywhere and tearing through everything as if it 
was my last day on earth and there wasn't a minute left 
to lose, somebody would stop me on the corner of what- 
ever street of circumstance I may be starting to cross and 
say to me in friendly fashion: 

"What's the hurry?" 

What is the hurry, after all? Where are we all going? 
What for? 

What difference does it make whether I read my paper at 
8 o'clock in the morning or at half -past 9? 

Will the world stop swinging in its orbit if I don't meet 
just so many people a day, write so many letters, hear so 
many lectures, skim through so many books? Of course if 
I'm earning my living I must work for it and work not 
only honestly but hard. But it seems to me that most of 
the terrific hurrying we do hasn't much to do with really 
essential work after all. It's a kind of habit we get into, 
a sort of madness, like the thing that overtakes the crowd 
at a ferry landing or the entrance to a train. I've seen 
men, and women, too, fairly fight to get onto a particular 
car when the next car would have done just exactly as well. 

Where are they going in such a hurry? To save a life? 
To mend a broken heart? To help to heal a wounded spirit? 
Or are they just rushing because the rest do it? 

What do they get out of life — these people who are 
always in a rush? 

Look! The laurel tree in my California garden is full 
of bursting buds ! The rains are beginning and the trees 
will soon be flecked with a silver veil of blossoms. I hadn't 
noticed it before. I've been too busy. 

What's your hurry? Come, friend of my heart, I'll say 
that to you to-day and say it in deep and friendly earnest. 

106 



CAUSES OF WORRY 

What's your hurry? Come, let's go for a walk together 
and see if we can find out. Let us keep finding out through 
all the new year. 

There are many other causes of worry, some of 
them so insidious, so powerful, as to call for 
treatment in special chapters. 



107 



Chapter VIII 

PROTEAN FORMS OF WORRY 

1 N a preceding chapter, I have shown that worry 
is a product of our modern civilization, and that 
it belongs only to the Occidental world. It is 
a modern disease, prevalent only among the so- 
called civilized peoples. There is no doubt that in 
many respects we are what we call ourselves — the 
most highly civilized people in the world. But 
do we not pay too high a price for much of our 
civilization ? If it is such that it fails to enable 
us to conserve our health, our powers of enjoy- 
ment, our spontaneity, our mental vigor, our 
spirituality, and the exuberant radiance of our 
life — bodily, mental, spiritual — I feel that we 
need to examine it carefully and find out wherein 
lies its inadequacy or its insufficiency. 

While our civilization has reached some very 
elevated points, and some men have made won- 
derful advancement in varied fields, it cannot be 
108 



PROTEAN FORMS OF WORRY 

denied that the mass of men and women are still 
groping along in the darkness of mental medi- 
ocrity, and on the mud-flats of the commonplace. 
Ten thousand men and women can now read where 
ten alone read a few centuries ago. But what are 
the ten thousand reading? That which will ele- 
vate, improve, benefit? See the piles of sensa- 
tional yellow novels, magazines, and newspapers 
that deluge us day by day, week by week, month 
by month, for the answer. True, there are many 
who desire the better forms of literature, and for 
these we give thanks ; they are of the salt that 
sjaves our civilization. 

I do not wish to seem, even, to be cynical or 
pessimistic, but when I look at some of the men- 
tal pabulum that our newspapers supply, I can- 
not but feel that we are making vast efforts to 
maintain the commonplace and dignify the trivial. 

For instance: Look at the large place the 
Beauty Department of a newspaper occupies in 
the thoughts of thousands of women and girls. 
Instead of seeking to know what they should do 

to keep their bodies and minds healthful and 
109 



QUIT YOUR WORRYING 

vigorous, they are deeply concerned over their 
physical appearance. They write and ask ques- 
tions that show how worried they are about their 
skin — freckles, pimples, discolorations, patches, 
etc. — their complexion, their hair, its color, glos- 
siness, quantity, how it should be dressed, and a 
thousand and one things that clearly reveal the 
improper emphasis placed upon them. I do not 
wish to ignore the basic facts behind these 
anxious questionings. It is right and proper that 
women (and men also) should give due attention 
to their physical appearance. But when it be- 
comes a mere matter of the outward show of cos- 
metics, powders, rouges, washes, pencils, and 
things that affect the outside only, then the em- 
phasis is in the wrong place, and we are worry- 
ing about the wrong thing. Our appearance is 
mainly the result of our physical and mental con- 
dition. If the body is healthy, the skin and hair 
will need no especial attention, and, indeed, every 
wise person knows that the application of many 
of the cosmetics, etc., commonly used, is injurious, 
if not positively dangerous. 
110 



PROTEAN FORMS OF WORRY 

Then, too, observation shows that too many 
women and girls go beyond reasonable attention 
to these matters and begin to worry over them. 
Once become slaves to worry, and every hour of 
the day some new irritant will arise. Some new 
"dope" is advertised; some new fashion devised; 
some new frivolity developed. Vanity and worry 
now begin to vie with each other as to which shall 
annoy and vex, sting and irritate their victim 
the more. Each is a nightmare of a different 
breed, but no sooner does one bound from the 
saddle, before the other puts in an appearance 
and compels its victim to a performance. Only 
a thorough awakening can shake such nightmares 
off, and comparatively few have any desire to be 
awakened. I have watched such victims and they 
arouse in me both laughter and sadness. One is 
sure her hair is not the proper color to match 
her complexion and eyes. It must be dyed. Then 
follows the worries as to what dye she shall use, 
and methods of application. Invariably the results 
produce worry, for they are never satisfactory, 
111 



QUIT YOUR WORRYING 

and now she is worried while dressing, while eat- 
ing, and when she goes out into the street, lest 
people notice that her hair is improperly dyed. 
Every stranger that looks at her adds to the 
worry, for it confirms her previous fears that she 
does not look all right.* If she tries another hair 
of the dog that has already bitten her and allows 
the hair specialist to guide her again, she goes 
through more worries of similar fashion. She 
must treat her hair in a certain way to conform 
to prevailing styles — and so she worries hourly 
over a matter that, at the outside, should occupy 
her attention for a few minutes of each day. 

There are men who are equally worried over 
their appearance. Their hair is not growing 
properly, or their ears are not the proper shape, 
or their ears are too large, or their hands are too 
rough, or their complexion doesn't match the ties 
they like to wear, or some equally foolish and 
nonsensical thing. Some wish to be taller, others 
not so tall; quite an army seeks to be thinner and 
another of equal numbers desires to be stouter; 
some wish they were blondes, and others that they 
112 



PROTEAN FORMS OF WORRY 

were brunettes. The result is that drug-stores, 
beauty-parlors, and complexion specialists for men 
and women are kept busy all their time, robbing 
poor, hard-working creatures of their earnings 
because of insane worries that they are not 
appearing as well as they ought to do. 

Clothing is a perpetual source of worry to 
thousands. They must keep up with the styles, 
the latest fashions, for to be "out of fashion," "a 
back number," gives them "a conniption fit." An 
out-of-date hat, or shirt-waist, jacket, coat, skirt, 
or shoe humiliates and distresses them more than 
would a violation of the moral law — provided it 
were undetected. 

To these, my worrying friends, I continually 
put the question: Is it worth while? Is the game 
worth the shot? What do you gain for all your 
worry? Rest and peace of mind? Alas, no! If 
the worry and effort accomplished anything, I 
would be the last to deprecate it, but observation 
and experience have taught me that the more you 
yield to these demons of vanity and worry, the 
more relentlessly they harry you. They veritably 

113 



QUIT YOUR WORRYING 

are demons that seize you by the throat and hang 
on like grim death until they suffocate and 
strangle you. 

Do you propose, therefore, any longer to sub- 
mit? Are you wilfully and knowingly going to 
allow yourself to remain within their grasp ? You 
have a remedy in your own hands. Kill your fool- 
ish vanity by determining to accept yourself as 
you are. All the efforts in the world will not 
make any changes worth while. Fix upon the 
habits of dress, etc., that good sense tells you 
are reasonable and in accord with your age, your 
position and your purse, and then follow them 
regardless of the fashion or the prevailing style. 
You know as well as I that, unless you are a near- 
millionaire, you cannot possibly keep up with the 
many and various changes demanded by current 
fashion. Then why worry yourself by trying? 
Why spend your small income upon the unattain- 
able, or upon that which, even if you could attain 
it, you would find unsatisfying and incomplete? 

In your case, worry is certainly the result of 
mental inoccupancy. This is sometimes called 
114 



PROTEAN FORMS OF WORRY 

"empty headedness," and while the term seems 
somewhat harsh and rough, it is pretty near the 
truth. If you spent one-tenth the amount of 
energy seeking to put something into your head 
that you spend worrying a to what you shall 
put on your head, and how to fix it up, your life 
would soon be far more different than you can 
now conceive. 

Carelessness and laziness are both great causes 
of worry. The careless man, the lazy man are 
each indifferent as to how their work is done; 
such men seldom do well that which they under- 
take. Eveiything carelessly or lazily done is 
incomplete, inadequate, incompetent, and, there- 
fore, a source of distress, discontent, and worry. 
A careless or lazy plumber causes much worry, 
for, even though his victims may have learned 
the lesson I am edeavoring to inculcate through- 
out these pages, it is a self-evident proposition 
that they will not allow his indifferent work to 
stand without correction. Therefore, the tele- 
phone bell calls continually, he or his men must 
go out and do the work again, and when pay-day 
115 



QUIT YOUR WORRYING 

comes, he fails to receive the check good work 
would surely have made forthcoming to him. 

The schoolboy, schoolgirl, has to learn this 
lesson, and the sooner the better. The teacher 
never nags the careful and earnest student ; only 
the lazy and careless are worried by extra lessons, 
extra recitals, impositions, and the like. 

All through life carelessness and laziness bring 
worry, and he is a wise person who, as early as he 
discovers these vices in himself, seeks to correct 
or, better still, eliminate them. 

Another form of worry is that wherein the 

worrier is sure that no one is to be relied upon 

to do his duty. Dickens, in his immortal Pickwick 

Papers, gives a forceful example of this type. Mr. 

Magnus has just introduced himself to Pickwick, 

and they find they are both going to Norwich on 

the same stage. 

'Now, gen'lm'n,' said the hostler, 'Coach is ready, if you 



pie 

'Is all my luggage in?' inquired Magnus. 

'AH right, Sir.' 

'Is the red bag in?' 

'All right, Sir.' 

'And the striped bag?' 

116 



PROTEAN FORMS OF WORRY 

'Fore boot, Sir.' 

'And the brown-paper parcel?' 

'Under the seat, Sir.' 

'And the leathern hat-box?' 

'They're all in, Sir.' 

'Now will you get up?' said Mr. Pickwick. 

'Excuse me,' replied Magnus, standing on the wheel. 
'Excuse me, Mr. Pickwick, I cannot consent to get up in 
this state of uncertainty. I am quite satisfied from that 
man's manner, that that leather hat-box is not in.' 

The solemn protestations of the hostler being unavailing, 
the leather hat-box was obliged to be raked up from the 
lowest depth of the boot, to satisfy him that it had been 
safely packed; and after he had been assured on this head, 
he felt a solemn presentiment, first, that the red bag was 
mislaid, and next, that the striped bag had been stolen, and 
then that the brown-paper parcel had become untied. At 
length when he had received ocular demonstration of the 
groundless nature of each and every one of these suspicions, 
he consented to climb up to the roof of the coach, observing 
that now he had taken everything off his mind he felt quite 
comfortable and happy. 

But this was only a temporary feeling, for as 
they journeyed along, every break in the conver- 
sation was filled up by Mr. Magnus's "loudly ex- 
pressed anxiety respecting the safety and well- 
being of the two bags, the leather hat-box, and 
the brown-paper parcel." 

Of course, this is an exaggerated picture, yet 
it properly suggests and illustrates this particu- 
117 



QUIT YOUR WORRYING 

lar, senseless form of worry, with which we are 
all more or less familiar. In business, such a 
worrier is a constant source of irritation to 
all with whom he comes in contact, either as in- 
ferior or superior. To his inferiors, his worrying 
is a bedeviling influence that irritates and helps 
produce the very incapacity for attention to detail 
that is required ; and to superiors, it is a sure sign 
of incompetency. Experience demonstrates that 
such an one is incapable of properly directing any 
great enterprise. Men must be trusted if you 
would bring out their capacities. Their work 
should be specifically laid out before them ; that io, 
that which is required of them; not, necessarily, 
in minute detail, but the general results that are 
to be achieved. Then give them their freedom to 
work the problems out in their own way. Give 
them responsibility, trust them, and then leave 
them alone. Quit your worrying about them. Give 
them a fair chance, expect, demand results, and if 
they fail, fire them and get those who are more 
competent. Mistrust and worry in the employer 
lead to uncertainty and worry in the employee and 
these soon spell out failure. 
118 



PROTEAN FORMS OF WORRY 

In subsequent chapters, various worries are dis- 
cussed, with their causes and cures. One thing 
I cannot too strongly and too often emphasize, 
and that is, that the more one studies the worries 
referred to, he is compelled to see the great truth 
of the proverb, "More of our worries come from 
within than from without." In other words, we 
make more of our worries, by worrying, than are 
made for us by the cares of life. This fact in 
itself should lead us to be suspicious of every 
worry that besets us. 



119 



Chapter IX 

HEALTH WORRIES 

1 HERE is an army, whose numbers are legion, 
who worry about their health and that of the 
members of their family. What with the doctors 
scaring the life out of them with the germ theory, 
seeking to obtain legislation to vaccinate them, 
examine their children nude in school, take out 
their tonsils, appendices, and other internal or- 
gans, inject serums into them for this, that, and 
the other, and requiring them to observe a score 
and one maxims which they do not understand, 
there is no wonder they are worried. Then when 
one considers the army of physicians who feel it 
to be their duty to write of sickness for the bene- 
fit of the people, who give detailed symptoms of 
every disease known; and of the larger army of 
quacks wh© deliberately live and fatten them- 
selves upon the worries they can create in the 
120 



HEALTH WORRIES 

minds of the ignorant, the vicious and the dis- 
eased ; of the patent-medicine*manufacturers, who 
spend millions of dollars annually in scaring 
people into the use of their nostrums — none of 
which are worth the cost of the paper with which 
they are wrapped up — is there any wonder that 
people, who are not trained to think, should be 
worried. Worries meet them on every hand, at 
every corner. Do they feel an ache or a pain? 
According to such a doctor, or such a patent- 
medicine advertisement, that is a dangerous 
symptom which must be checked at once or the 
most fearful results will ensue. 

Then there are the naturopaths, physiculto- 
paths, gymnastopaths, hygienists, raw food advo- 
cates, and a thousand and one other notionists, 
who give advice as to what, when, and how you 
shall eat. Horace Fletcher insists that food be 
chewed until it is liquid ; another authority says, 
"Bosh!" to this and asks you to look at the dog 
who bolts his meat and is still healthy, vigorous 
and strong. The raw food advocate assures you 
that the only good food is uncooked, and that 
121 



QUIT YOUR WORRYING 

you take out this, that, and the other by cooking, 
all of which are essential to the welfare of the 
body. Between these natural authorities and the 
medical authorities, there is a great deal of war- 
fare going on all the time, and the layman knows 
not wherein true safety lies. Is it any wonder 
that he is worried. 

Many members of the medical profession and 
the drug-stores have themselves to thank for this 
state of perpetual worriment and mental unrest. 
They inculcated, nurtured, and fostered a colossal 
ignorance in regard to the needs of the body, and 
a tremendous dread and blind fear of everything 
that seems the slightest degree removed from the 
every-day normal. They have persistently taught 
those who rely upon them that the only safe and 
wise procedure is to rush immediately to a physi- 
cian upon the first sign of anything even slightly^ 
out of the ordinary. Then, with wise looks, mys- 
terious words, strange symbols, and loathsome 
decoctions, they have sent their victims home to 
imagine that some marvelous wonder work will fol- 
low the swallowing of their abominable mixtures* 

122 



HEALTH WORRIES 

instead of frankly and honestly telling their con- 
sultants that their fever was caused by over- 
eating, by too late hours, by dancing in an ill- 
ventilated room, by too great application to busi- 
ness, by too many cocktails, or too much tobacco 
smoking. 

The results are many and disastrous. People 
become confirmed "worriers" about their health. 
On the slightest suspicion of an ache or a pain, 
they rush to the doctor or the drug-store for a 
prescription, a dose, a powder, a potion, or a pill. 
The telephone is kept in constant operation about 
trivialities, and every month a bill of greater or 
lesser extent has to be paid. 

While I do not wish to deprecate the calling in 
of a physician in any serious case, by those who 
deem it advisable, I do condemn as absurd, un- 
necessary, and foolish in the highest degree, this 
perpetual worry about trivial symptoms of health. 
Every truthful physician will frankly tell you — 
if you ask him — that worrying is often the worst 
part of the trouble; in other words, that if you 
never did u tiling in these cases that distress you, 
123 



QUIT YOUR WORRYING 

but would quit your worrying, the discomfort 
would generally disappear of its own accord. 

One result of this kind of worry is that it gen- 
ders a nervousness that unnecessarily calls up to 
the mind pictures of a large variety of possible 
dangers. Who has not met with this nervous 
species of worrier? 

The train enters a tunnel: "What an awful 
place for a wreck !" Or it is climbing a mountain 
grade with a deep precipice on one side: "My, if 
we were to swing off this grade!" I have heard 
scores of people, who, on riding up the Great 
Cable Incline of the Mount Lowe Railway, have 
exclaimed: "What would become of us if this 
cable were to break?" and they were apparently 
people of reason and intelligence. The fact is, 
the cable is so strong and heavy that with two 
cars crowded to the utmost, their united weight 
is insufficient to stretch the cable tight, let alone 
putting any strain upon it sufficient to break it. 
And most nervous worries are as baseless as this. 

"Yet," says some apologist for worries, "acci- 
dents do happen. Look at the Eastland in Chi- 

in 



HEALTH WORRIES 

cago, and the loss of the Titanic. Railways have 
wrecks, collisions, and accidents. Horses do run 
away. Dogs do bite. People do become sick!" 

Granted without debate or discussion. But if. 
everybody on board the wrecked vessels had wor- 
ried for six months beforehand, would their wor- 
ries have prevented the wrecks? Mind you, I say 
worry, not proper precaution. The shipping 
authorities, all railway officials and employees, 
etc., should be as alert as possible to guard against 
all accidents. But this can be done without one 
moment's worry on the part of a solitary human 
being, and care is as different from worry as gold 
is from dross, coal from ashes. By all means, take 
due precautions; study to avoid the possibility of 
accidents, but do not give worry a place in your 
mind for a moment. 

A twin brother to this health-worrier is the 
nervous type, who is sure that every dog looae on 
the streets is going to bite; every horse driven 
behind is surely going to run away; every chauf- 
feur is either reckless, drunk, or sure to run into 
a telegraph pole, have a collision with another 
125 



QUIT YOUR WORRYING 

car, overturn his car at the corner, or run down 
the crossing pedestrian ; every loitering person is 
a tramp, who is a burglar in disguise ; every 
stranger is an enemy, or at least must be regarded 
with suspicion. Such worriers always seem to 
prefer to look on the dark side of the unknown 
rather than on the bright side. "Think no evil!" 
is good philosophy to apply to everything, as well 
as genuine religion — when put into practice. The 
world is in the control of the Pfowers of Good, and 
these seek our good, not our disaster. Have faith 
in the goodness of the powers that be, and work 
and live to help make your faith true. The man 
who sees evil where none exists, will do more to 
call it into existence than he imagines, and equally 
true, or even more so, is the converse, that he 
who sees good where none seems to exist, will call 
it forth, bring it to the surface. 

The teacher, who imagines that all children are 
mean and are merely waiting for a chance to exer- 
cise that meanness, will soon justify his suspicions 
and the children will become what he imagines 
them to be. Yet such a teacher often little realizes 
126 



HEALTH WORRIES 

that it has been his own wicked fears and worries 
that helped — to put it mildly— the evil assert itself. 



127 



Chapter X 

THE WORRIES OF PARENTS 

l\ worrying parent is at once an exasper- 
ating and a pathetic figure. She — for it is gen- 
erally the mother — is so undeniably influenced by 
her love that one can sympathize with her anxiety, 
yet the confidant of her child, or the unconcerned 
observer is exasperated as he clearly sees the evil 
she is creating by her foolish, unnecessary worries. 

The worries of parents are protean, as are all 
other worries, and those herein named must be 
taken merely as suggestions as to scores of others 
that might be catalogued and described in detail. 

Many mothers worry foolishly because their 
children do not obey, are not always thoughtful 
and considerate, and act with wisdom, forgetful 
that life is the school for learning. If any worry- 
ing is to be done, let the parent worry over her 
own folly in not learning how to teach, or train, 
128 



THE WORRIES OF PARENTS 

her child. Line upon line, precept upon precept, 
here a little, there a little, is the natural proced- 
ure with children. It is unreasonable to expect 
"old heads upon young shoulders." Worry, there- 
fore, that children have not learned before they 
are taught is as senseless as it is demoralizing. 
Get down to something practical. I know a 
mother of a large family of boys and girls. They 
are as diverse in character and disposition as one 
might ever find. She is one of the wise, sensible, 
practical mothers, who acts instead of worrying. 
For instance, she believes thoroughly in allowing 
the children to choose their own clothing. It 
develops judgment, taste, practicability. One of 
the girls was vain, and always wanted to purchase 
shoes too small for her, in order that she might 
have "pretty feet." Each time she brought home 
small shoes, her mother sent her back with admoni- 
tions to secure a larger pair. After this had con- 
tinued for several times, she decided upon another 
plan. When the "too small" shoes were brought 
home, she compelled the girl to wear them, though 
they pinched and hurt, until they were worn out, 
129 



QUIT YOUR WORRYING 

and, as she said in telling me the story, "that 
ended that." 

One of her sons was required to get up every 
morning and light the fire. Very often he was 
lazy and late so that the fire was not lighted when 
mother was ready to prepare breakfast. One 
night he brought home a companion to spend a 
day or two. The lads frolicked together so that 
they overslept. When mother got up in the morn- 
ing, there was no fire. She immediately walked to 
the foot of the stairs and yelled, "Fire! Fire! 
Fire !" at the top of her voice. In a few moments, 
both lads, tousled, half-dressed, and well-scared, 
rushed downstairs, exclaiming: "Where's the fire? 
Where's the fire?" "I want it in the stove," was 
the mother's answer — and "that was the end of 
that." 

The oldest girl became insistent that she be al- 
lowed to sit up nights after the others had gone to 
bed. She would study for awhile and then put her 
head on her arms and go to sleep. One night her 
mother waited until she was asleep, went off to bed, 
and left her. At three o'clock in the morning she 
130 



THE WORRIES OF PARENTS 

came downstairs, lighted lamp in hand, and alarm 
clock set to go off. As soon as the alarm-bell 
began to ring, the girl awoke, startled to see her 
mother standing there with the lighted lamp, her- 
self cold and stiff with the discomfort of her posi- 
tion. "And that was the end of that," said the 
mother. 

Here was common-sense, practical, hard-headed 
training instead of worry. Bend your sense, your 
intellect, your time, your energy, to seeking how 
to train your children, instead of doing the sense- 
less, foolish, inane, and utterly useless thing of 
worrying about them. 

Imagine being the child of an anxious parent, 
who sees sickness in every unusual move or mood 
of her boy or girl. A little clearing of the throat 
— "I'm sure he's going to have croup or diph- 
theria." The girl unconsciously puts her hand 
to her brow — "What's the matter with your head, 
dearie; got a headache?" A lad feels a trifle un- 
comfortable in his clean shirt and wiggles about — 
"I'm sure Tom's coming down with fever, he's so 
restless and he looks so flushed!" 
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QUIT YOUR WORRYING 

God forbid that I should ever appear to cari- 
cature the wise care of a devoted mother. That is 
not what I aim to do. I seek, with intenseness of 
purpose, to show the folly, the absurdity of the 
anxieties, the worries, the unnecessary and un- 
reasonable cares of many mothers. For the 
moment Fear takes possession of them, some kind 
of nagging is sure to begin for the child. "Oh, 
Tom, you mustn't do this," or, "Maggie, my dar- 
ling, you must be careful of that," and the child 
is not only nagged, but is thus placed under bond- 
age to the mother's unnecessary alarm. No young 
life can suffer this bondage without injury. It 
destroys freedom and spontaneity, takes away that 
dash and vigor, that vim and daring that essen- 
tially belong to youth, and should be the unham- 
pered heritage of every child. I'd far rather have 
a boy and girl of mine get sick once in a while — 
though that is by no means necessary-^-than have 
them subjected to the constant fear that they 
might be sick. And when boys and girls wake 
up to the full consciousness that their parents' 
worries are foolish, unnecessary, and self-created, 
132 



THE WORRIES OF PARENTS 

the mental and moral influence upon them is far 
more pernicious than many even of our wisest 
observers have perceived. 

There never was a boy or girl who was worried 
over, who was not annoyed, fretted, injured, and 
cursed by it, instead of being benefited. The bene- 
fit received from the love of the parent was in 
spite of the worry, and not because of it. Worry 
is a hindrance, a deterrent, a restraint; it is 
always putting a curbing hand upon the natural 
exuberance and enthusiasm of youth. It says, 
"Don't, don't," with such fierce persistence, that 
it kills initiative, destroys endeavor, murders 
naturalness, and drives its victims to deception, 
fraud, and secrecy to gain what they feel to be 
natural, reasonable and desirable ends. 

I verily believe that the parent who forever is 
saying "Don't" to her children, is as dangerous 
as a submarine and as cruel as an asphyxiating 
.bomb. Life is for expression, not repression. 
Repression is always a proof that a proper avenue 
for expression has not yet been found. Quit your 
"don't-ing," and teach your child to "do" right. 
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QUIT YOUR WORRYING 

Children absolutely are taught to dread, then 
dislike, and finally to hate their parents when they 
are refused the opportunity of "doing" — of ex- 
pressing themselves. 

Rather seek to find ways in which they may be 
active. Give them opportunities for pleasure, for 
employment, for occupation. And remember this, 
there is as much distance and difference between 
"tolerating," "allowing," "permitting" your chil- 
dren to do things, and "encouraging," "fostering" 
in them the desire to do them, as there is distance 
between the poles. Don't be a dampener to your 
children, a discourager, a "don'ter," a sign the 
moment you appear that they must "quit" some- 
thing, that they must repress their enthusiasm, 
their fun, their exuberant frolicsomeness, but let 
them feel your sympathy with them, your com- 
radeship, your good cheer, that "Father, Mother, 
is a jolly good fellow," and my life for it, you will 
doubtless save yourself and them much worry in 
after years. 

Hans Christian Andersen's story of The Ugly 
Duckling is one of the best illustrations of the use- 
134 



THE WORRIES OF PARENTS 

lessness and ncedlessness of much of the worry of 
parents with which I am familiar. How the poor 
mother duck worried because one of her brood 
was so large and ugly. At first she was willing to 
accept it, but when everybody else jeered at it, 
pushed it aside, bit at it, pecked it on the head, 
and generally abused it, and the turkey-cock bore 
down upon it like a ship in full sail, and gobbled 
at it, and its brothers and sisters hunted it, grew 
more and more angry with it, and wished the cat 
would get it and swallow it up, she herself wished 
it far and far away. And as the worries grew 
around the poor duckling, it ran away. It didn't 
know enough to have faith in itself and its own 
future. The result was the worries of others af- 
fected it to the extent of urging it to flee. For 
the time being this enlarged its worries, until at 
length, falling in with a band of swans, it felt a 
strange thrill of fellowship with them in spite of 
their grand and beautiful appearance, and, soar- 
ing into the air after them, it alighted into the 
water, and seeing its own reflection, was filled with 
amazement and wonder to find itself no longer an 
ugly duckling but — a swan. 
135 



QUIT YOUR WORRYING 

Many a mother, father, family generally, have 
worried over their ugly duckling until they have 
driven him, her, out into the world, only to find 
out later that their duckling was a swan. And 
while it was good for the swan to find out its own 
nature, the points I wish to make are that there 
was no need for all the worry — it was the sign of 
ignorance, of a want of perception — and further, 
the swan would have developed in its home nest 
just as surely as it did out in the world, and would 
have been saved all the pain and distress its cruel 
family visited upon it. 

There is still another story, which may as well 
be introduced here, as it applies to the unneces- 
sary worry of parents about their young. In this 
case, it was a hen that sat on a nest of eggs. When 
the chickens were hatched, they all pleased the 
mother hen but one, and he rushed to the nearest 
pond, and, in spite of her fret, fuss, fume, and 
worry, insisted upon plunging in. In vain the 
hen screamed out that he would drown, her un- 
natural child was resolved to venture, and to the 
136 



THE WORRIES OF PARENTS 

amazement of all, he floated perfectly, for he was 
a duck instead of a chicken, and his egg was placed 
under the old hen by mistake. 

Mother, father, don't worry about your child. 
It may be he is a swan ; he may be a duck, instead 
of the creature you anticipated. Control your 
fretfulness and your worry for it cannot possibly 
change things. Wait and watch developments and 
a few days may reveal enough to you to show you 
how totally unnecessary all your worries would 
have been. Teach yourself to know that worry 
is evil thought directed either upon our own bodies 
or minds, or those of others. Note, I say evil 
thought. It is not good thought. Good thought 
so directed would be helpful, useful, beneficial. 
This is injurious, harmful, baneful. Evil thought, 
worry, directs to the person, or to that part of 
the body considered, an injurious and baneful in- 
fluence that produces pain, inharmony, unhappi- 
ness. It is as if one were to divert a stream of 
corroding acid upon a sensitive wound, and do it 
because we wished to heal the wound. Worry 
never once healed a wound, or cured an ill. It 
137 



} 



/ 



QUIT YOUR WORRYING 

always aggravates, irritates, and, furthermore, 
helps superinduce the evil the worrier is afraid of. 

The fact that you worry about these things to 
which I have referred, that you yield your thoughts 
to them, and, in your worry, give undue contem- 
plation to them, induces the conditions you wish 
to avoid or avert. Hence, if you wish your child 
to be well and strong, brave and courageous, it 
is the height of cruelty for you to worry over his 
health, his play, or his exercise. Better by far 
leave him alone than bring upon him the evils 
you dread. Who has not observed, again and 
again, the evil that has come from worrying 
mothers who were constantly cautioning or for- 
bidding their children to do that which every 
natural and normal child longs to do? Quit your 
worrying. Leave your child alone. Better by far 
let him break a rib, or bruise his nose, than all 
the time to live in the bondage of your fears. 

Elsewhere I have referred to the fact that we 

often bring upon our loved ones the perils we fear. 

There is a close connection between our mental 

states and the objects with which we are sur- 

138 



THE WORRIES OF PARENTS 

rounded. Or, mayhap, it would be more correct 
to say that it is our mental condition that shapes 
the actions of those around us in relation to the 
things by which they are surrounded. Let me 
illustrate with an incident which happened in my 
own observation. A small boy and girl had a ner- 
vous, ever worrying mother. She was assured 
that her boy was bound to come to physical ill, 
for he was so courageous, so adventuresome, so 
daring. To her he was the duck instead of the 
chicken she thought she was hatching out. One 
day he climbed to the roof of the barn. His sister 
followed him. The two were slowly, and in per- 
fect security, "inching" along on the comb of the 
roof, when the mother happened to catch sight 
of them. With a scream of half terror and half 
anger, she shouted to them to come down at once! 
Up to that moment, I had watched both children 
with comfort, pleasure, and assurance of their per- 
fect safety. Their manifest delight in their ele- 
vated position, the pride of the girl in her pet 
brother's courage, and his scarcely concealed sur- 
prise and pleasure that she should dare to follow 
139 



QUIT YOUR WORRYING 

him, were interesting in the extreme. But the 
moment that foolish mother's scream rent the air, 
everything changed instanter. Both children be- 
came nervous, the boy started down the roof, 
where he could drop upon a lower roof to safety. 
His little sister, however, started down too soon. 
Her mother's fears unnerved her and she slid, and 
falling some twenty-five feet or so, broke her arm. 

Then — and here was the cruel fatuity of the 
whole proceeding — the mother began to wail and 
exclaim to the effect that it was just what she 
expected. May I be pardoned for calling her a 
worrying fool. She could not see that it was her 
very expectation, and giving voice to it, in her 
hourly worryings and in that command that they 
come down, that caused the accident. She, her- 
self, alone was to blame; her unnecessary worry 
was the cause of her daughter's broken arm. 

Christ's constant incitement to his disciples 
was "Be not afraid !" He was fully aware of the 
fact that Job declared: "The thing which I 
greatly feared is come upon me." 

Hence, worrying mother, curb your worry, kill 
140 



THE WORRIES OF PARENTS 

it, drive it out, for your child's sake. You claim 
it is for jour child's good that you worry. You 
are wrong. It is because you are too thoughtless, 
faithless, and trustless that you worry, and, if you 
will pardon me, too selfish. If, instead of giving 
vent to that fear, worry, dread, you exercised your 
reason and faith a little more, and then self-denial, 
and refused to give vocal expression to your worry, 
you could then claim unselfishness in the interest 
of your child. But to put your fears and worries, 
your dreads and anxieties, around a young child, 
destroying his exuberance and joy, surrounding 
him with the mental and spiritual fogs that beset 
your own life is neither wise, kind, nor unselfish. 
Another serious worry that besets many parents 
is that pertaining to the courtship or engagement 
of their children. Here again let me caution my 
readers not to construe my admonitions into in- 
difference to this important epoch in their child's 
life. I would have them lovingly, wisely, sagely 
advise. But there is a vast difference between 
this, and the uneasy, fretful, nagging worries that 
beset so many parents and which often lead to 
141 



QUIT YOUR WORRYING 

serious friction. Remember that it is your child, 
not you, who has to be suited with a life partner. 
The girl who may call forth his warmest affection 
may be the last person in the world you would 
have chosen, yet you are not the one to be con- 
cerned. 

In the January, 1916, Ladies' Home Journal 
there is an excellent editorial bearing upon this 
subject, as follows: 

A mother got to worrying about the girl to whom her 
son had become engaged. She was a nice girl, but the 
mother felt that perhaps she was not of a type to stimulate 
the son sufficiently in his career. The mother wisely said 
nothing, however, until two important facts dawned upon 
her: 

First, that possibly her boy was of the order which did 
not need stimulation. As she reflected upon his nature, his 
temperament, she arrived at the conclusion that what he 
required in a life partner might be someone who would 
prove a poultice rather than a mustard plaster or a fly 
blister. 

This was her first discovery. 

The second was not precisely like unto it, but was even 
more important — that the son, and not the mother, was 
marrying the girl. The question as to whether or not the 
girl would suit the mother as a permanent companion was 
a minor consideration about which she need not vex her 
soul. The point he had settled for himself was that here, 
by God's grace, was the one maid for him; and since that 
had been determined the wise course was for the mother 
not to waste time and energy bemusing (worrying) herself 

142 



THE WORRIES OF PARENTS 

over the situation, especially as the girl offered no funda- 
mental objections. 

Thus the mother, of herself, learned a lesson that many 
another mother might profitably learn. 

How wonderfully in his Saul does Robert Brown- 
ing set forth the opposite course to that of the> 
worrier. Here, the active principle of love and 
trust are called upon so that it uplifts and blesses 
its object. David is represented as filled with a 
great love for Saul, which would bring happiness 
to him. He strives in every way to make Saul 
happy, yet the king remains sad, depressed, and 
unhappy. At last David's heart and his reason 
grasp the one great fact of God's transcending 
love, and the poem ends with a burst of rapture. 
His discovery is that, if his heart is so full of love 
to Saul, that in his yearning for his good, he 
would give him everything, what must God's love 
for him be? Of his own love he cries: 

Could I help thee, my father, inventing a bliss, 
I would add, to that life of the past, both the future and 

this; 
I would give thee new life altogether, as good, ages hence, 
At this moment, — had love but the warrant love's heart to 

dispense. 

143 



QUIT YOUR WORRYING 

Then, when God's magnificent love bursts upon 
him he sings in j oy : 

What, my soul? see thus far and no farther? When 

doors great and small 

Nine-and-ninety flew ope at our touch, should the hundredth 
appall? 

How utterly absurd, on the face of it, is such a 
supposition. God having given so much will 
surely continue to give. His love so far proven 
so great, it will never cease. 

O ! doubting heart of man, of woman, of father, 
of mother, grieving over the mental and spiritual 
lapses of a loved one, grasp this glorious fact — 
God's love far transcends thine own. What thou 
wouldst do for thy loved one is a minute fraction 
of what He can do, will do, is doing. Rest in His 
love. He will not fail thee nor forsake thee ; and 
in His hands all whom thou lovest are safe. 



144 



Chapter XI 

MARITAL WORRIES 

I now approach a difficult part of my subject, 
yet I do it without trepidation, fear, or worry as 
to results. There are, to my mind, a few funda- 
mental principles to be-«onsidered and observed, 
and each married couple must learn to fight the 
battle out for themselves. 

Undoubtedly, to most married people, the ideal 
relationship is where each is so perfectly in accord 
with the other — they think alike, agree, are as one 
mentally — that there are no irritations, no differ- 
ences of opinion, no serious questions to discuss. 

Others have a different ideal. They do not 
object to differences, serious, even, and wide. 
They are so thorough believers in the sanctity of 
the individuality of each person — that every 
individual must live his own life, and thus learn 
his own lessons, that what they ask is a love large 
145 



QUIT YOUR WORRYING 

enough, big enough, sympathetic enough, to em- 
brace all differences, and in confidence that the 
"working out" process will be as sure for one as 
the other, to rest, content and serene in each 
other's love in spite of the things that otherwise 
would divide them. 

This mental attitude, however, requires a large 
faith in God, a wonderful belief in the good that 
is in each person, and a forbearing wisdom that 
few possess. Nevertheless, it is well worth striv- 
ing for, and its possession is more desirable than 
many riches. And how different the outlook 
upon life from that of the marital worrier. When 
a couple begin to live together, they have within 
themselves the possibilities of heaven or of hell. 
The balance between the two, however, is very 
slight. There is only a foot, or less, in differ- 
ence, between the West and the East on the Trans- 
continental Divide. I have stood with one foot 
in a rivulet the waters of which reached the 
Pacific, and the other in one which reached the 
Atlantic. The marital divide is even finer than 
that. It is all in the habit of mind. If one deter- 
146 



MARITAL WORRIES 

mines that he, she, will guide, boss, direct, control 
the other, one of two or three things is sure to 
occur. 

I. The one mind will control the other, and an 
individual will live some one else's life instead of 
its own. This is the popular American notion of 
the life of the English wife. She has been trained 
during the centuries to recognize her husband as 
lord and master, and she unquestionably and un- 
hesitatingly obeys his every dictate. Without at 
all regarding this popular conception as an accu- 
rate one, nationally, it will serve the purpose of 
illustration. 

II. The second alternative is one of sullen sub- 
mission. If one hates to "row," to be "nagged," 
he, she, submits, but with a bad grace, consumed 
constantly with an inward rebellion, which de- 
stroys love, leads to cowardly subterfuges, decep- 
tions, and separations. 

III. The third outcome is open rebellion, and 
the results of this are too well known to need 
elucidation — for whatever they may be, they are 
disastrous to the peace, happiness, and content 
of the family relationship. 

147 



QUIT YOUR WORRYING 

Yet to show how hard it is to classify actual 
cases in any formal way, let me here introduce 
what I wrote long ago about a couple whom I 
have visited many times. It is a husband and wife 
who are both geniuses — far above the ordinary in 
several lines. They have money — made by their 
own work — the wife's as well as the husband's, for 
she is an architect and builder of fine homes. While 
they have great affection one for another, there 
is a constant undertone of worry in their lives. 
Each is too critical of the other. They worry 
about trifles. Each is losing daily the sweetness 
of sympathetic and joyous comradeship because 
they do not see eye to eye in all things. Where a 
mutual criticism of one's work is agreed upon, and 
is mutually acceptable and unirritating, there is 
no objection to it. Rather should it be a source 
of congratulation that each is so desirous of im- 
proving that criticism is welcomed. But, in many 
cases, it is a positive and injurious irritant. One 
meets with criticism, neither kind nor gentle, out 
in the world. In the home, both man and woman 
148 



MARITAL WORRIES 

need tenderness, sympathy, comradeship — and if 
there be weaknesses or failures that are openly or 
frankly confessed, there should be the added grace 
and virtue of compassion without any air of pity- 
ing condescension or superiority. By all means 
help each other to mend, to improve, to reach 
after higher, noble things, but don't do it by the 
way of personal criticism, advice, remonstrance, 
fault-finding, worrying. If you do, you'll do far 
more harm than good in ninety-nine cases out of 
every hundred. Every human being instinctively, 
in such position, consciously or unconsciously, 
places himself in the attitude of saying: "I am 
what I am! Now recognize that, and leave me 
alone! My life is mine to learn its lessons in my 
own way, just the same as yours is to learn your 
lessons in your way." This worrying about, and of 
each other has proven destructive of much domes- 
tic happiness, and has wrecked many a marital 
barque, that started out with sails set, fair wind, 
and excellent prospects. 

Don't worry about each other — liclp each other 
by the loving sympathy that soothes and com- 
149 



QUIT YOUR WORRYING 

forts. Example is worth a million times more than 
precept and criticism, no matter how lovingly 
and wisely applied, and few men and women are 
wise enough to criticise and advise perpetually, 
without giving the recipient the feeling that he is 
being "nagged." 

Granted that, from the critic's standpoint, every 
word said may be true, wise, and just. This does 
not, by any means, make it wise to say it. The 
mental and spiritual condition of the recipient 
must be considered as of far more importance than 
the condition of the giver of the wise exhortations. 
The latter is all right, he doesn't need such ad- 
monitions ; the other does. The important ques- 
tion, therefore, should be: "Is he ready to re- 
ceive them?" If not, if the time is unpropitious, 
the mental condition inauspicious, better do, say, 
nothing, than make matters worse. But, unfortu- 
nately, it generally happens that at such times the 
critic is far more concerned at unbosoming him- 
self of his just and wise admonitions than he is as 
to whether the time is ripe, the conditions the best 
possible, for the word to be spoken. The sacred 
150 



MARITAL WORRIES 

writer has something very wise and illuminating 
to say upon this subject. Solomon says: "A word 
spoken in due season, how good is it!" Note, 
however, that it must be spoken "in due season," 
to be good. The same word spoken out of season 
may be, and often is, exceedingly bad. Again he 
says : "A word fitly spoken is like apples of gold 
in pictures of silver." But it must be fitly spoken 
to be worthy to rank with apples of gold. 



151 



Chapter XII 

THE WORRY OF THE SQUIRREL CAGE 

K EFERENCE has already been made to The 

Squirrel Cage, by Dorothy Canfield. Better than 

any book I have read for a long time, it reveals 

the causes of much of the x worry that curses 

our modern so-called civilized life. These 

causes are complex and various. They include 

vanity, undue attention to what our neighbors 

think of us, a false appreciation of the values of 

things, and they may all be summed up into what 

I propose to call — with due acknowledgement to 

Mrs. Canfield — the Worry of the Squirrel Cage, 

I will let the author express her own meaning 

of this latter term. If the story leading up seems 

to be long please seek to read it in the light of 

this expression : * 

♦Reprinted from "The Squirrel-Cage" by Dorothy Canfield 
($1.35 net) ; published by Henry Holt and Company, New 
York City. 

152 



THE WORRY OF THE SQUIRREL CAGE 

When Mr. and Mrs. Emery, directly after their wedding 
in a small Central New York village, had gone West to 
Ohio, they had spent their tiny capital in building a small 
story-and-a-half cottage, ornamented with the jig-saw work 
and fancy turning popular in 1872, and this*/ had been the 
nucleus of their present rambling, picturesque, many- 
roomed home. Every step in the long series of changes 
which had led from its first state" to its last had a profound 
and gratifying significance for the Emerys and its final 
condition, prosperous, modern, sophisticated, with the right 
kind of wood work in every room that showed, with the 
latest, most unobtrusively artistic effects in decoration, 
represented their culminating well-earned position in the 
inner circle of the best society of Endbury. 

Moreover, they felt that just as the house had been 
attained with effort, self-denial, and careful calculations, 
yet still without incurring debt, so their social position had 
been secured by unremitting diligence and care, but with 
no loss of self-respect or even of dignity. They were 
honestly proud of both their house and of their list of 
acquaintances and saw no reason to regard them as less 
worthy achievements of an industrious life than their four 
creditable grown-up children or Judge Emery's honorable 
reputation at the bar. 

The two older children, George and Marietta, could re- 
member those early struggling days with as fresh an emo- 
tion as that of their parents. Indeed, Marietta, now a 
competent, sharp-eyed matron of thirty-two, could not see 
the most innocuous colored lithograph without an uncon- 
trollable wave of bitterness, so present to her mind was the 
period when they painfully groped their way out of 
chromos. 

The particular Mrs. Hollister who, at the time the 
Emerys began to pierce the upper crust, was the leader of 
Endbury society, had discarded chromos as much as five 

153 



QUIT YOUR WORRYING 

years before. Mrs. Emery and Marietta, newly admitted 
to the honor of her acquaintance, wondered to themselves 
at the cold monotony of her black and white engravings. 
The artlessness of this wonder struck shame to their hearts 
when they chanced to learn that the lady had repaid it 
with a worldly-wise amusement at their own highly-colored 
waterfalls and snow-capped mountain-peaks. Marietta could 
recall as piercingly as if it were yesterday, in how crest- 
fallen a chagrin she and her mother had gazed at their 
parlor after this incident, their disillusioned eyes open for 
the first time to the futility of its claim to sophistication. 
As for the incident that had led to the permanent retiring 
from their table of the monumental salt-and-pepper 'caster' 
which had been one of their most prized wedding presents, 
the Emery s refused to allow themselves to remember it, so 
intolerably did it spell humiliation. 

In these quotations the reader has the key to 
the situation — worry to become as good as one's 
neighbors, if not better. This is the worry of the 
squirrel cage. 

Lydia is Mrs. Emery's baby girl, her pet, her 
passionate delight. She has been away to a fine 
school. She knows nothing of the ancient strug- 
gles to attain position and a high place in society. 
Those struggles were practically over before she 
appeared on the scene. 

On the occasion of her final home-coming her 
mother makes great preparations to please her, 
154. 



THE WORRY OF THE SQUIRREL CAGE 

yet the worry and the anxiety, are revealed in her 

conversation with her older daughter: 

'Oh, Marietta, how do you suppose the house will seem 
to Lydia after she has seen so much? I hope she won*t 
be disappointed. I've done so much to it this last year, 
perhaps she won't like it. And oh, I was so tired because 
we weren't able to get the new sideboard put up in the 
dining-room yesterday !' 

'Really, Mother, you must draw the line about Lydia. 
She's only human. I guess if the house is good enough for 
you and father it is good enough for her.' 

'That's just it, Marietta — that's just what came over me! 
Is what's good enough for us good enough for Lydia? 
Won't anything, even the best, in Endbury be a come-down 
for her?' 

The attainments of Mrs. Emery both as to 
wealth and social position, however, were not 
reached by her daughter Marietta and her hus- 
band, but in the determination to make it appear 
as if they were, Marietta thus exposes her own 
life of worry in a talk with her father: 

'Keeping up a two-maid and a man establishment on a 
one-maid income, and mostly not being able to hire the one 
maid. There aren't any girls to be had lately. It means that 
I have to be the other maid and the man all of the time, 
and all three, part of the time.' She was starting down the 
step, but paused as though she could not resist the relief 
that came from expression. 'And the cost of living — the 
necessities are bad enough, but the other tilings — the things 
you have to have not to be out of everything! I lie awake 

155 



QUIT YOUR WORRYING 

nights. I think of it in church. I can't think of anything 
else but the way the expenses mount up. Everybody get- 
ting so reckless and extravagant and I won't go in debt! 
I'll come to it, though. Everybody else does. We're the 
only people that haven't oriental rugs now. Why, the Gil- 
berts — and everybody knows how much they still owe Dr. 
Melton for Ellen's appendicitis, and their grocer told Ralph 
they owe him several hundred dollars — well, they have just 
got an oriental rug that they paid a hundred and sixty dol- 
lars for. Mrs. Gilbert said they 'just had to have it, and 
you can always have what you have to have.' It makes me 
sick! Our parlor looks so common! And the last dinner 
party we gave cost — ' 

Another phase of the squirrel cage worry is ex- 
pressed in this terse paragraph: 

'Father keeps talking about getting one of those player- 
pianos, but Mother says they are so new you can't tell what 
they are going to be. She says they may get to be too 
common.' 

Bye and bye it comes Lydia's turn to decide 

what place she and her new husband are to take 

in Endbury society, and here is what one frank, 

sensible man says about it: 

'It may be all right for Marietta Mortimer to kill her- 
self body and soul by inches to keep what bores her to 
death to have — a social position in Endbury's two-for-a- 
cent society, but, for the Lord's sake, why do they make 
such a howling and yelling just at the time when Lydia's 
got the tragically important question to decide as to whether 
that's what she wants? It's like expecting her to do a 
problem in calculus in the midst of an earthquake.' 

156 



THE WORRY OF THE SQUIRREL CAGE 

And the following chapter is a graphic presenta- 
tion as to how Lydia made her choice "in perfect 
freedom" — oh, the frightful sarcasm of the phrase 
— during the excitement of the wedding prepara- 
tions and under the pressure of expensive gifts 
and the ideas of over enthusiastic "society" 
friends. 

Lydia now began her own "squirrel-cage" ex- 
istence, even her husband urges her into extrava- 
gance in spite of her protest by saying, "Noth- 
ing's too good for you. And besides, it's an 
asset. The mortgage won't be so very large. 
And if we're in it, we'll just have to live up to 
it. It'll be a stimulus." 

One of the sane characters of the book is dear, 
lovable, gruff Mr. Melton, who is Lydia's god- 
father, and her final awakening is largely due to 
him. One day he finds Lydia's mother upstairs 
sick-a-bed, and thus breaks forth to his godchild : 

'About your mother — I know without going; upstairs that 
she is floored with one or another manifestation of the 
great disease of social-amhitionitiy. But calm yourself. It's 
not so bad as it seems when you've got the right doctor. 
I've practiced for thirty years among Endbury ladies. Thej 

157 



QUIT YOUR WORRYING 

can't spring anything new on me. I've taken your mother 
through doily fever induced by the change from table- 
cloths to bare tops, through portiere inflammation, through 
afternoon tea distemper, through art-nouveau prostration 
and mission furniture palsy, not to speak of a horrible at- 
tack of acute insanity over the necessity of having her 
maids wear caps. I think you can trust me, whatever dodge 
the old malady is working on her.' 

And later in speaking of Lydia's sister he af- 
firms : 

'Your sister Marietta is not a very happy woman. She 
has too many of your father's brains for the life she's been 
shunted into. She might be damming up a big river with a 
finely constructed concrete dam, and what she is giving all 
her strength to is trying to hold back a muddy little trickle 
with her bare hands. The achievement of her life is to 
give on a two-thousand-a-year income the appearance of 
having five thousand like your father. She does it; she's a 
remarkably forceful woman, but it frets her. She ought 
to be in better business, and she knows it, though she won't 
admit it.' 

Oh, the pity of it, the woe of it, the horror of it, 
for it is one of the curses of our present day soci- 
ety and is one of the causes of many a man's and 
woman's physical and mental ruin. In the words 
of our author elsewhere: 

They are killing themselves to get what they really don't 
want and don't need, and are starving for things tthey could 
easily have by just putting out their hands. 

158 



THE WORRY OF THE SQUIRREL CAGE 

Where life's struggle is reduced to this kind of 
thing, there is little compensation, hence we are 

not surprised to read that: 

Judge Emery was in the state in which of late the end 
of the day's work found him — overwhelmingly fatigued. He 
had not an ounce of superfluous energy to answer his wife's 
tocsin, while she was almost crying with nervous exhaustion. 
That Lydia's course ran smooth through a thousand com- 
plications was not accomplished without an incalculable ex- 
penditure of nervous force on her mother's part. Dr. Mel- 
ton had several times of late predicted that he would have 
his old patient back under his care again. Judge Emery, 
remembering this prophecy, was now moved by his wife's 
pale agitation to a heart-sickening mixture or apprehen- 
sion for her and of recollection of his own extreme discom- 
fort whenever she was sick. 

Yet in spite of this intense tension, she was un- 
able to stop — felt she must go on, until finally, a 
break-down intervened and she was compelled to 
lay by. 

On another page a friend tells of his great- 
aunt's experience: 

'She told me that all through her childhood her family 
was saving and pulling together to build a fine big house. 
They worked along for years until, when she was a young 
lady, they finally accomplished it; built a big three-story 
house that was the admiration of the countryside. Then 
they moved in. And it took the womenfolks every minute of 
their time, and more to keep it clean and in order; it cost 
as much to keep it up, heated, furnished, repaired, painted 

159 



QUIT YOUR WORRYING 

and everything the way a fine house should be, as their 
entire living used to cost. The fine big grounds they had 
laid out to go with the mansion took so much time to — ' 

Finally Lydia herself becomes awakened, start- 
led as she sees what everybody is trying to make 
her life become and she bursts out to her sister: 

'I'm just frightened of — everything — what everybody 
expects me to do, and to go on doing all my life, and never 
have any time but to just hurry faster and faster, so there'll 
be more things to hurry about, and never talk about any- 
thing but things!' She began to tremble and look white, 
and stopped with a desperate effort to control herself, 
though she burst out at the sight of Mrs. Mortimer's face 
of despairing bewilderment. 'Oh, don't tell me you don't 
see at all what I mean. I can't say it! But you must 
understand. Can't we somehow all stop — now! And start 
over again! You get muslin curtains and not mend your 
lace ones, and Mother stop fussing about whom to invite 
to that party — that's going to cost more than he can afford, 
Father says — it makes me sick to be costing him so much. 
And not fuss about having clothes just so — and Paul have 
our house built little and plain, so it won't be so much work 
to take care of it and keep it clean. I would so much rather 
look after it myself than to have him kill himself making 
money so I can hire maids that you can't — you say yourself 
you can't — and never having any time to see him. Perhaps 
if we did, other people might, and we'd all have more time 
to like things that make us nicer to like. 

And when her sister tried to comfort her she 

continued : 

'You do see what I mean! You see how dreadful it is to 
look forward to just that — being so desperately troubled 

160 



THE WORRY OF THE SQUIRREL CAGE 

over things that don't really matter — and — and perhaps 
having children, and bringing them to the same thing — 
when there must be so many things that do matter!' 

Then, to show how perfectly her sister under- 
stood, the author makes that wise and perceptive 
woman exclaim: 

'Mercy! Dr. Melton's right! She's perfectly wild with 
nerves! We must get her married as soon as ever we can!' 

Lydia gives a reception. Here is part of the 
description : 

Standing as they were, tightly pressed in between a num- 
ber of different groups, their ears were assaulted by a dis- 
jointed mass of stentorian conversation that gave a singular 
illusion as if it all came from one inconceivably voluble 
source, the individuality of the voices being lost in the 
screaming enunciation which, as Mrs. Sandworth had 
pointed out, was a prerequisite of self-expression under the 
circumstances. 

They heard: *For over a month and the sleeves were too 
see you again at Mrs. Elliott's Vm pouring there from four 
I've got to dismiss one with plum-colored bows all along 
five dollars a week and the washing out and still impossible! 
I was there myself all the time and they neither of thirty. 
five cents a pound for /he most ordinary ferns and red 
carnations was all they had, and we thought it rather 
8bimpy under the brought up in one big braid and caught 
down with at Peterson's they were pink and white with — ' 
..'Oh, no, Madeleine! that was at the BurlingcurM't.' Mrs. 
Sandworth took a running jump Into the din and sank from 
hrr brother's Blgfat, vociferating: "The Petersons had them 
of old gold, don't you remember, with little—' 

161 



QUIT YOUR WORRYING 

The doctor, worming his way desperately through the 
masses of femininity, and resisting all attempts to engage 
him in the local fray, emerged at length into the darkened 
hall where the air was, as he told himself in a frenzied flight 
Of imagination, less like a combination of a menagerie and a 
perfume shop. Here, in a quiet corner, sat Lydia's father 
alone. He held in one hand a large platter piled high with 
wafer-like sandwiches, which he was consuming at a Gargan- 
tuan rate, and as he ate, he smiled to himself. 

'Well, Mr. Ogre,' said the doctor, sitting down beside him 
with a gasp of relief; 'let a wave- worn mariner into your 
den, will you?' 

Provided with an auditor, Judge Emery's smile broke 
into an open laugh. He waved the platter toward the up- 
roar in the next rooms: 'A boiler factory ain't in it with 
woman, lovely woman, is it?' he put it to his friend. 

'Gracious powers ! There's nothing to laugh at in that 
exhibition!' the doctor reproved him, with an acrimonious 
savagery. 'I don't know which makes me sicker; to stay 
in there and listen to them, or come out here and find you 
thinking they're funny!* 

'They are funny!' insisted the Judge tranquilly. 'I stood 
by the door and listened to the scraps of talk I could 
catch, till I thought I should have a fit. I never heard 
anything funnier on the stage.' 

'Looky here, Nat,' the doctor stared up at him angrily, 
'they're not monkeys in a zoo, to be looked at only on holi- 
days and then laughed at! They're the other half of a 
whole that we're half of, and don't you forget it! Why in 
the world should you think it funny for them to do this 
tomfool trick all winter and have nervous prostration all 
summer to pay for it? You'd lock up a man as a danger- 
ous lunatic if he spent his life so. What they're like, and 
what they do with their time and strength concerns us 
enough sight more than what the tariff is, let me tell you.' 

'I admit that what your wife is like concerns you a 

163 



THE WORRY OF THE SQUIRREL CAGE 

whole lot !' The Judge laughed good-naturedly in the face 
of the little old bachelor. 'Don't commence jumping on the 
American woman so ! I won't stand it ! She's the noblest 
of her sex!' 

'Do you know why I am bald?' said Dr. Melton, running 
his hand over his shining dome. 

'If I did, I wouldn't admit it,' the Judge put up a cau- 
tious guard, 'because I foresee that whatever I say will be 
used as evidence against me.* 

'I've torn out all my hair in desperation at hearing such 
men as you claim to admire and respect and wish to ad- 
vance the American woman. You don't give enough thought 
to her — real thought — from one year's end to another to 
know whether you think she has an immortal soul or not !' 

Later Lydia's husband insists that they give a 

dinner. 

It was to be a large dinner — large, that is, for End- 
bury — of twenty covers, and Lydia had never prepared a 
table for so many guests. The number of objects necessary 
for the conventional setting of a dinner table appalled her. 
She was so tired, and her attention was so fixed on the 
complicated processes going on uncertainly in the kitchen, 
that her brain reeled over the vast quantity of knives and 
forks and plates and glasses needed to convey food to 
twenty mouths on a festal occasion. They persistent!/ 
eluded her attempts to marshal them into order. She dis- 
covered that she had put forks for the soup — that in some 
inexplicable way at the plate destined for an important 
guest there was a large kitchen spoon of iron, a wild sort 
of whimsical humor rose in her from the ferment of utter 
fatigue and anxiety. When Paul came in, looking very 
grave, she told him with a wavering laugh, 'If I tried ns 
hard for ten minutes to go to Heaven as I've tried all day 
to have this dinner right, I'd certainly have a front seat in 

163 



QUIT YOUR WORRYING 

the angel choir\ If anybody here to-night is not satisfied, 
it'll be because he's harder to please than St. Peter himself.' 

During the evening: 

Lydia seemed to herself to be in an endless bad dream. 
The exhausting efforts of the day had reduced her to a 
sort of coma of fatigue through whfch she felt but dully the 
successive stabs of the ill-served unsuccessful dinner. At 
times, the table, the guests, the room itself, wavered before 
her, and she clutched at her chair to keep her balance. She 
did not know that she was laughing and talking gaily and 
eating nothing. She was only conscious of an intense long- 
ing for the end of things, and darkness and quiet. 

When it was all over and her husband was com- 
pelled to recognize that it had been a failure, his 
mental attitude is thus expressed: 

He had determined to preserve at all costs the appear- 
ance of the indulgent, non-critical, over-patient husband 
that he intensely felt himself to be. No force, he thought 
grimly, shutting his jaws hard, should drag from him a 
word of his real sentiments. Fanned by the wind of this 
virtuous resolution, his sentiments grew hotter and hotter 
as he walked about, locking doors and windows, and re- 
viewing bitterly the events of the evening. If he was to 
restrain himself from saying, he would at least allow him- 
self the privilege of feeling all that was possible to a man 
deeply injured. 

And that night Lydia felt for the "first time 
the quickening to life of her child. And during 
all that day, until then, she had forgotten that 
164 



THE WORRY OF THE SQUIRREL CAGE 

she was to know motherhood." Can words more 
forcefully depict the worry of tlie squirrel-cage 
than this — that an unnecessary dinner, given in 
unnecessary style, at unnecessary expense, to visi- 
tors to whom it was unnecessary should have driv- 
en from her thought, and doubtless seriously in- 
jured, the new life that she was so soon to give 
to the world? 

Oh, men and women of divine descent and 
divine heritage, quit your squirrel-cage stage of 
existence. Is life to be one mere whirling around 
of the cage of useless toil or pleasure, of mere 
imagining that you are doing something? Work 
with an object. Know your object, that it is 
worthy the highest endeavor of a human being, 
and then pursue it with a divine enthusiasm that 
no obstacle can daunt, an ardor that no weari- 
ness can quench. Then it is you will begin to live. 
There is no life in worry. Worry is a waste of 
life. If you are a worrier, that is a proof you (in 
so far as you worry) do not appreciate the value 
of your own life, for a worthy object, a divine 
enthusiasm, a noble ardor are in themselves the 
165 



QUIT YOUR WORRYING 

best possible preventives against worry. They 
dignify life above worry. Worry is undignified, 
petty, paltry. Where you know you have some- 
thing to do worth doing, you are conscious of the 
Divine Benediction, and who can worry when the 
smile of God rests upon him? This is a truism 
almost to triteness, and yet how few fully realize 
it. It is the unworthy potterers with life, the 
dabblers in life-stuff, those who blind themselves 
to their high estate, those who are unsure of their 
footing who worry. The true aristocrat is never 
worried about his position ; the orator convinced 
of the truth of his message worries not as to how 
it will be received ; the machinist sure of his plans 
hesitates not in the construction of his machinery ; 
the architect assured of his accuracy pushes on 
his builders without hesitancy or question, fear, or 
alarm; the engineer knowing his engine and his 
destination has no heart quiver as he handles the 
lever. It is the doubter, the unsure, the aimless, 
the dabbler, the frivolous, the dilettante, the un- 
certain that worry. How nobly Browning set this 
forth in his Epilogue: 

166 



THE WORRY OF THE SQUIRREL CAGE 

What had I on earth to do 
With the slothful, with the mawkish, the unmanly? 
Like the aimless, helpless, hopeless, did I drivel 

—Being— Who? 
One who never turned his hack but marched breast forward, 

Never doubted clouds would break, 
Never dreamed, though right were worsted, wrong would 

triumph, 
Held we fall to rise, are baffled to fight better, 

Sleep to wake. 
No, at noonday in the bustle of man's worktime 

Greet the unseen with a cheer! 
Bid him forward, breast and back as either should be, 
'Strive and thrive!' cry 'Speed,— fight on, fare ever 

There as here!' 

And this is not "mere poetry." Or rather it 
is because it is "mere poetry" that it is real life. 
Browning had nearly seventy years of it. He 
knew. Where there are those to whom "God has 
whispered in the ear," there is no uncertainty, no 
worry. The musician who knows his instrument, 
knows his music, knows his key, and knows his 
time to play never hesitates, never falters, never 
worries. With tone clear, pure, strong, and cer- 
tain, he sends forth his melodies or harmonies into 
the air. Cannot you, in your daily life, be a true 
and sure musician? Cannot you be certain — ab- 
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QUIT YOUR WORRYING 

solutely, definitely certain — of your right to play 
the tune of life in the way you have it marked out 
before you, and then go ahead and play! Play, 
in God's name, as God's and man's music-maker. 



168 



Chapter XIII 

RELIGIOUS WORRIES AND WORRIERS 

JV1 isunderstandings, misconceptions, and ignor- 
ance in regard to what really is religion have 
caused countless millions to mourn — and worry; 
indeed, far more to worry than to mourn. Religion 
should be a joyous thing, the bringing of the son 
and daughter into close relationship with the 
Father. Instead, for centuries, it has been a 
battle for creeds, for mental assent to certain 
doctrines, rather than a growth in brotherhood 
and loving relationship, and those who could not 
see eye to eye with one another deemed it to be 
their duty to fight and worry each other — even 
to their death. 

This is not the place for any theological dis- 
cussion ; nor is it my intent to present the claims 
of any church or creed. Each reader must do that 
for himself, and the less he worries over it, the 
169 



QUIT YOUR WORRYING 

better I think it will be for him. I have read and 
reread Cardinal Newman's wonderful Fro Apolo- 
gia — his statement as to why and how he entered 
the bosom of the Roman Catholic Church, and it 
has thrilled me with its pathos and evidence of 
deep spiritual endeavor. Charles Warren Stod" 
dard's Troubled Heart and How It Found Rest is 
another similar story, though written by an en- 
tirely different type of man. Each of these books 
revealed the inner thought and life of men who 
were worried about religion, and by worry I mean 
anxious to the point of abnormality, disturbed, 
distressed unnecessarily. Yet I would not be mis- 
understood. Far be it from me, in this age of gross 
materialism and worship of physical power and 
wealth, to decry in the least a proper degree of 
solicitude for one's personal salvation. The reli- 
gious life of the individual — the real, deep, per- 
sonal, hidden, unseen, inner life of a human soul — 
is a wonderfully delicate thing, to be touched by 
another only with the profoundest love and deep- 
est wisdom. Hence I have little to say about one's 
own inner struggles, except to affirm and reaffirm 
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RELIGIOUS WORRIES AND WORRIERS 

that wisdom, sanity, and religion itself are all 
against worrying about it. Study religion, con- 
sider it, accept it, follow it, earnestly, seriously, 
and constantly, but do it in a rational manner, 
seeking the essentials, accepting them and then 
resting in them to the full and utter exclusion of 
all worry. 

But there is another class of religious wor- 
riers, viz., those who worry themselves about your 
salvation. Again I would not be misunderstood, 
nor thought to decry a certain degree of solicitude 
about the spiritual welfare of those we love, but 
here again the caution and warning against 
worry more than ever holds good. Most of these 
worriers have found comfort, joy, and peace in a 
certain line of thought, which has commended it- 
self to them as Truth — the one, full, complete, in- 
divisible Truth, and it seems most natural for 
human nature to be eager that others should pos- 
sess it. This is the secret of the zeal of the street 
Salvationist, whose flaming ardor is bent on 
reaching those who seldom, if ever, go to church. 
The burden of his cry is that you must flee from 
171 



QUIT YOUR WORRYING 

the wrath to come — hell — by accepting the vicari- 
ous atonement made by the "blood of Jesus." In 
season and out of season, he urges that you "come 
under the blood." His face is tense, his brow 
wrinkled, his eyes strained, his voice raucous, his 
whole demeanor full of worry over the salvation of 
others. 

Another friend is a Seventh Day Adventist, 
who is full of zeal for the declaration of the 
"Third Angel's Message," for he believes that 
only by heeding it, keeping sacred the hours from 
sunset on Friday to Saturday sunset, in accord- 
ance with his reading of the fourth commandment, 
and also believing in the speedy second coming of 
Christ, can one's soul's salvation be attained. 

The Baptist is assured that his mode of baptism 
— complete immersion — is the only one that satis- 
fies the demands of heaven, and the more rigorous 
members of the sect refuse communion with those 
who have not obeyed, as they see the command. 
The members of the "Christian" Church — as the 
disciples of Alexander Campbell term themselves — 
while they assent that they are tied to no creed 

m 



RELIGIOUS WORRIES AND WORRIERS 

except the New Testament, demand immersion as 
a prerequisite to membership in their body. The 
Methodist, Congregationalist, Presbyterian, Naz- 
arene, and many others, are "evangelical" in their 
belief, as is a large portion of the Church of Eng- 
land, and its American offshoot, both of which are 
known as the Episcopal Church. Another por- 
tion, however, of this church is known as "ritual* 
istic," and the two branches in England recently 
became so involved in a heated discussion as to 
the propriety of certain of their bishops partak- 
ing in official deliberations with ministers of the 
other, but outside, evangelistic churches, that for 
a time it seemed as if the whole Episcopal Church 
would be disrupted by the fierceness and anger 
gendered in the differences of opinion. 

To my own mind, all this worry was much ado 
about nothing. Each man's brain and conscience 
must guide him in matters of this kind, and the 
worry, fret, stew, evolved out of the matter, seem 
to me a proof that real religion had little to do 
with it. 

Recently one good brother came to me with 
173 



QUIT YOUR WORRYING 

tears in his voice, if not in his eyes, worried seri- 
ously as to my own religious belief because I had 
asserted in a public address that I believed the 
earnest prayer of a good Indian woman reached 
the ear of God as surely as did my own prayers, 
or those of any man, woman, minister, or priest 
living. To him the only effective prayers were 
"evangelical" prayers — whatever that may mean 
— and he was deeply distressed and fearfully wor- 
ried because I could not see eye to eye with him 
in this matter. And a dear, good woman, who 
heard a subsequent discussion of the subject, was 
so worried over my attitude that she felt impelled 
to assure me when I left that "she would pray for 
me." 

I have friends who are zealous Roman Catho- 
lics, and a number of them are praying that I 
may soon enter the folds of "Mother Church," and 
yet my Unitarian and Universalist friends wonder 
why I retain my membership in any "orthodox" 
church. On the other hand, my New Thought 
friends declare that I belong to them by the spirit 
of the messages I have given to the world. Then, 
174 



RELIGIOUS WORRIES AND WORRIERS 

too, my Theosophist friends — and I have many — 
present to me, with a force I do not attempt to 
controvert, the doctrine of the Universal Brother- 
hood of Mankind, and urge upon me acceptance 
of the comforting and helpful doctrine, to them, 
of Reincarnation. 

Not long prior to this writing a good earnest 
man buttonholed me and held me tight for over 
an hour, while he outlined his own slight diver- 
gencies from the teachings of the Methodist 
Church, to which he belongs, and his interpreta- 
tion of the symbolism of Scripture, none of which 
had the slightest interest to me. In our conver- 
sation, he expressed himself as quite willing — 
please note the condescension — to allow me the 
privilege of supposing the Catholic was honest 
and sincere in his faith and belief, but he really 
could not for one moment allow the same to the 
Christian Scientist, who, from his standpoint, 
denied the atonement and the Divinity of Christ. 
I suppose if he ever picks up this booklet and 
reads what I am now going to write, he will regard 
me as a reprobate and lost beyond the possibility 
175 



QUIT YOUR WORRYING 

of salvation. Nevertheless, I wish to put on record 
that I regard his attitude as one of intolerance, 
bigotry, fanaticism, and impudence — sheer, un- 
adulterated impertinence. Who made him the 
judge of the thoughts and acts of other men's 
inner lives? Who gave to him the wisdom and 
power of discernment to know that he was right 
and these others wrong? Poor, arrogant fool. 
His worries were not the result of genuine affec- 
tion and deep human sympathy, the irrepressible 
and uncontrollable desires and longings of his 
heart to bring others into the full light of God's 
love, but of his overweening self-confidence in his 
own wisdom and judgment. And I say this in no 
personal condemnation of him, for I have now even 
forgotten who it was, but in condemnation of the 
spirit in which he and all his ilk ever act. 

Hence, my dear reader, if you are of his class, I 
say to you earnestly: Don't worry about other 
people's salvation. It may be they are nearer 
saved than you are. No man can' be "worried" 
into accepting anything, even though you 
may deem it the only Truth. I have 
176 



RELIGIOUS WORRIES AND WORRIERS 

known men whom others regarded as agnos- 
tics who had given more study to the 
question of personal religion than any ten of their 
critics. I can recall three — all of whom were men 
of wonderful mentality and great earnestness of 
purpose. John Burroughs's first essays were 
written for his own soul's welfare — the results of 
his long-continued mental struggles for light upon 
the subject. Major J. W. Powell, the organizer 
and director for many years of the United States 
Geological Survey and Bureau of American Eth- 
nology, was brought up by a father and mother 
whose intense longing was that their son should 
be a Methodist preacher. The growing youth 
wished to please his parents, but was also com- 
pelled to satisfy his own conscience. The more 
he studied the creeds and doctrines of Methodism, 
the less he felt he could accept them, and much to 
the regret of his parents, he refused to enter the 
ministry. Yet, in relating the story to me, he 
asserted that his whole life had been one long 
agony of earnest study to find the highest truth. 
Taking me into his library, where there were sev- 
177 



QUIT YOUR WORRYING 

eral extended shelves filled from end to end with 
the ponderous tomes of the two great government 
bureaus that he controlled, he said : "Most people 
regard this as my life-work, and outwardly it is. 
Yet I say to you in all sincerity that the real, 
inner, secret force working through all this, has 
been that I might satisfy my own soul on the sub- 
ject of religion." Then, picking up two small 
volumes, he said: "In these two books I have 
recorded the results of my years of agonizing 
struggle. I don't suppose ten men have ever read 
them through, or, perhaps, ever will, but these 
are the real story of the chief work of my inner 
life." 

I am one of the few men who have read both 
these books with scrupulous care, and yet were it 
not for what my friend told me of their profound 
significance to him, I should scarcely have been 
interested enough in their contents to read them 
through. At the same time, I know that the men 
who, from the standpoint of their professionally 
religious complacency would have condemned 
Major Powell, never spent one- thousandth part 
178 



RELIGIOUS WORRIES AND WORRIERS 

the time, nor felt one ten-thousandth the real 
solicitude that he did about seeking "the way, the 
truth, and the life." 

Another friend in Chicago was Dr. M. H. 
Lackersteen, openly denounced as an agnostic, 
and even as an infidel, by some zealous sectaries. 
Yet Dr. Lackersteen had personally translated the 
whole of the Greek Testament, and several other 
sacred books of the Hebrews and Hindoos, in his 
intense desire to satisfy the demands of his own 
soul for the Truth. He was the soul of honor, 
the very personification of sincerity, and as much 
above some of his critics — whom I well knew — in 
these virtues, as they were above the scum of the 
slums. 

The longer I live and study men the more I am 
compelled to believe that religion is a personal 
matter between oneself and God and is more of 
the spirit than most people have yet conceived. 
It is well known to those who have read 
my books and heard my lectures on the 
Old Franciscan Missions of California, that 
I revere the memory of Padres Junipero 
179 



QUIT YOUR WORRYING 

Serra, Palou, Crespi, Catala, Peyri, and 
others of the founders of these missions. I have 
equal veneration for the goodness of many Catho- 
lic priests, nuns, and laymen of to-day. Yet I 
am not a Catholic, though zealous sectaries of 
Protestantism — even of the church to which I am 
supposed to belong — sometimes fiercely assail me 
for my open commendation of these men of that 
faith. They are worried lest I lean too closely 
towards Catholicism, and ultimately become one 
of that fold. Others, who hear my good words in 
favor of what appeals to me as noble and uplifting 
in the lives of those of other faiths of which they 
do not approve, worry over and condemn! my 
"breadth" of belief. Indeed, I have many friends 
who give themselves an immense lot of altogether 
unnecessary worry about this matter. They have 
labelled themselves according to some denomina- 
tional tag, and accept some form of belief that, 
to them, seems incontrovertible and satisfactory. 
Many of them are praying for me, and each that I 
may see the TRUTH from his standpoint. For 
their prayers I am grateful. I cannot afford to 
180 



RELIGIOUS WORRIES AND WORRIEHS 

lose the spirit of love behind and in every one of 
them. But for the worry about me in their minds, 
I have neither respect, regard, toleration, nor 
sympathy. I don't want it, can do without it, 
and I resent its being there. To each and all of 
them I say firmly: Quit Your Worrying about 
my religion, or want of it. I am in the hands of 
the same loving God that you are. I have the 
promise of God's Guiding Spirit as much as you 
have. I have listened respectfully and with an 
earnest and sincere desire to see and know the 
Truth, to all you have said, and now I want to be 
left alone. I have come to exclaim with Browning 

in Rabbi Ben Ezra: 

Now, who shall arbitrate? 
Ten men love what I hate, 
Shun what I follow, slight what I receive; 
Ten, who in ears and eyes 
Match me. We all surmise, 
They this thing, and I that: whom shall my soul believe? 

For myself I have concluded that no one shall 
choose my religion for me, and all the worrying 
in the world shall not change my attitude. 

And it is to the worrying of my friends that 
they owe this state of mind. For this reason, I 
181 



QUIT YOUR WORRYING 

found myself one day counting up the number of 
people of different beliefs who had solemnly prom- 
ised to pray for me. There were Methodists, Camp- 
bellites, Baptists, Roman Catholics, Episcopalians, 
Seventh Day Adventists, Presbyterians, Naza- 
renes, Holy Rollers, and others. Then the query 
arose: Whose prayers will be answered on my 
behalf? Each is sure that his are the ones that 
can be effective ; yet their prayers differ ; they are, 
to some degree, antagonistic, and insofar as they 
petition that I become one of their particular fold, 
they nullify each other, as it is utterly impossible 
that I accept the specific form of faith of each. 
The consequent result in my own mind is that as 
I cannot possibly become what all these good peo- 
ple desire I should be, as their desires and prayers 
for me controvert each other, I must respectfully 
decline to be bound by any one of them. I must 
and will do my own choosing. Hence all the worry 
on my behalf is energy, strength, and effort 
wasted. 

Let me repeat, then, to the worrier about the 
salvation of others : You are in a poor business. 
182 



RELIGIOUS WORRIES AND WORRIERS 

Quit Your Worrying. Hands off! This is none 
of your concern. Believe as little or as much and 
what you will for your own soul's salvation, but 
do not put forth your conceptions as the only 
conceptions possible of Divine Truth before an- 
other soul who may have an immeasurably larger 
vision than you have. Oh, the pitiableness of 
man's colossal conceit, the arrogance of his ignor- 
ance. As if the God of the Universe were so small 
that one paltry, finite man could contain in his 
pint measure of a mind all the ocean of His power, 
knowledge, and love. Let your small and wretched 
worries go. Have a little larger faith in the Love 
of the Infinite One. Tenderly love and trust 
those whose welfare you seek, and trust God at 
the same time, but don't worry when you see the 
dear ones walking in a path you have not chosen 
for them. Remember your own ignorance, your 
own frailties, your own errors, your own mistakes, 
and then frankly and honestly, fearlessly and di- 
rectly ask yourself the question if you dare to take 
upon your own ignorant self the responsibility of 
seeking to control and guide another living soul 
as to his eternal life. 

183 



QUIT YOUR WORRYING 

Brother, Sister, the job is too big for you. It 
takes God to do that, and you are not yet even a 
perfect human being. Hence, while I long for all 
spiritual good for my sons and daughters, and 
for my friends, and I pray for them, it is in a 
large way, without any interjection of my own 
decisions and conclusions as to what will be good 
for them. I have no fears as I leave them thus 
in God's hand, and regard every worry as sinful 
on my part, and injurious to them. I have no 
desire that they should accept my particular brand 
of faith or belief. While I believe absolutely in 
that which I accept for the guidance of my own 
life, / would not fetter their souls with my belief 
if I could. They are in wiser, better, larger, more 
loving Hands than mine. And if I would not 
thus fetter my children and friends, I dare not 
seek to fetter others. My business is to live my 
own religion to the utmost. If I must worry, I 
will worry about that, though, as I think my read- 
ers are well aware by now, I do not believe in any 
kind of worry on any subject whatever. 
184 



RELIGIOUS WORRIES AND WORRIERS 

Hence, let me again affirm in concluding this 
chapter, I regard worry about the religion of 
others as unwarrantable on account of our own 
ignorances as to their peculiar needs, as well as of 
God's methods of supplying those needs. It is 
also a useless expenditure of strength, energy, and 
affection, for, if God leads, your worry cannot 
possibly affect the one so lad. It is also generally 
an irritant to the one worried over. Even though 
he may not formulate it into words he feels that it 
is an interference with his own inner life, a nag- 
ging that he resents, and, therefore, it does him 
far more harm than good; and, finally, it is an 
altogether indefensible attempt to saddle upon 
another soul your own faith or belief, which may 
be altogether unsuitable or inadequate to the needs 
of that soul. 

There is still one other form of worry connected 
with the subject of religion. Many a good man 
and woman worries over the apparent well-being 
and success of those whom he, she, accounts 
wicked! They are seen to flourish as a green bay 
tree, or as a well-watered garden, and this seems 
185 



QUIT YOUR WORRYING 

to be unfair, unjust, and unwise on the part of the 
powers that govern the universe. If good is de- 
sirable, people ought to be encouraged to it by 
material success — so reason these officially good 
wiseacres, who subconsciously wish to dictate to 
God how He should run His world. 

How often we hear the question: "Why is it 
the wicked prosper so?" or "He's such a bad man 
and yet everything he does prospers." Holy 
Writ is very clear on this subject. The sacred 
writer evidently was well posted on the tendency 
of human nature to worry and concern itself about 

the affairs of others, hence his injunction: 
Fret not thyself because of evil doers. 

In other words, it's none of your business. And 
I am inclined to believe that a careful study of the 
Bible would reveal to every busybody who worries 
over the affairs of others that he himself has 
enough to do to attend to himself, and that his 
worry anyhow is a ridiculous, absurd, and sense- 
less piece of supererogation, and rather a proof 
of human conceit and vanity than of true concern 
for the spiritual good of others. 
186 



Chapter XIV 

AMBITION AND WORRY 

15 OME forms of ambition are sure and certain 
developers and feeders of worry and fretful dis- 
tress, and should be guarded against with jealous 
care. We hear a great deal from our physicians 
of the germs of disease that seize upon us and 
infect our whole being, but not all the disease 
germs that ever infected a race are so demoraliz- 
ing to one's peace and joy as are the germs of 
such deadly mental diseases as those of envy* 
malice, covetousness, ambition, and the like. Am- 
bition, like wine, is a mocker. It is a vain deluder 
of men. It takes an elevated position and beckons 
to you to rise, that you may be seen and flattered 
of men. It does not say: "Gain strength and 
power, wisdom and virtue, so that men will place 
you upon the pedestal of their veneration, respect, 
and love," but it bids you seize the "spotlight" 
187 



QUIT YOUR WORRYING 

and hold it, and no sooner are you there than it 
begins to pester you, as with a hundred thousand 
hornets, flying around and stinging you, with 
doubts and questionings as to whether your fel- 
lows see you in this elevated place, whether they 
really discern your worth, your beauty, your 
shining qualities ; and, furthermore, it quickens 
your hearing, and bids you strain to listen to what 
they say about you, and as you do so, you are 
pricked, stabbed, wounded by their slighting and 
jeering remarks, their scornful comments upon 
your impertinent and impudent arrogance at dar- 
ing to take such a place, and their open denial of 
your possession of any of the qualities which 
would entitle you to so honored a position in the 
eyes of men. 

Then, too, it must be recalled that, when fired 
with the desires of this mocker, ambition, one is 
inclined, in his selfish absorption, to be ruthless in 
his dealings with others. It is so easy to trample 
upon others when a siren is beckoning you to 
climb higher, and your ears are eagerly listening 
to her seductive phrases. Wjth her song in your 
188 



AMBITION AND WORRY 

ears, you cannot hear the wails of anguish of 
others, upon whose rights and life you trample, 
the manly rebukes of those you wound, or the 
stern remonstrances of those who bid you heed 
your course. Ambition blinds and deafens, and, 
alas, calluses the heart, kills comradeship, drives 
away friendship in its eager selfishness, and in so 
doing, lets in a flood of worries that ever beset 
its victims. They may not always be in evidence 
while there is the momentary triumph of climb- 
ing, but they are there waiting, ready to teeter 
the pedestal, whisper of its unsure and unstable 
condition, call attention to those who are digging 
around its foundations, and to the fliers in the air, 
who threaten to hurl down bombs and completely 
destroy it. 

Phaeton begged that his father, Phoebus Apollo, 
allow him to drive the flaming chariot of day 
through the heavens, and, in spite of all warnings 
and cautions, insisted upon his power and ability. 
Though instructed and informed as to the great 
dangers he evoked, he seized the reins with delight, 
stood up in the chariot, and urged on the snorting 
189 



QUIT YOUR WORRYING 

steeds to furious speed. Soon conscious of a 
lighter load than usual, the steeds dashed on, 
tossing the chariot as a ship at sea, and rushed 
headlong from the traveled road of the middle 
zone. The Great and Little Bear were scorched, 
and the Serpent that coils around the North Pole 
was warmed to life. Now filled with fear and 
dread, Phaeton lost self-control, and looked re- 
pentant to the goal which he could never reach. 
The unrestrained steeds dashed hither and thither 
among the stars, and reaching the Earth, set fire 
to trees, cities, harvests, mountains. The air be- 
came hot and lurid. The rivers, springs, and 
snowbanks were dried up. The Earth then cried 
out in her agony to Jupiter for relief, and he 
launched a thunderbolt at the now cowed and 
broken-hearted driver, which not only struck him 
from the seat he had dishonored, but also out of 
existence. 

The old mythologists were no fools. They saw 

the worries, the dangers, the sure end of ambition. 

They wrote their cautions and warnings against 

it in this graphic story. Why will men and wo- 

190 



AMBITION AND WORRY 

men, for the sake of an uncertain and unsure goal, 
tempt the Fates, and, at the same time, surely 
bring upon themselves a thousand unnecessary 
worries that sting, nag, taunt, fret, and distress? 
Far better seek a goal of certainty, a harbor of 
sureness, in the doing of kindly deeds, noble 
actions, unselfish devotion to the uplift of others. 
In this mad rush of ambitious selfishness, such a 
life aim may seem chimerical, yet it is the only 
aim that will reach, attain, endure. For all 
earthly fame, ambitious attainment, honor, glory 
is evanescent and temporary. Like the wealth of 
the miser, it must be left behind. There is no 
pocket in any shroud yet devised which will con- 
vey wealth across the River of Death, and no 
man's honors and fame but that fade in the clear 
light of the Spirit that shines in the land beyond. 
Then, ambitious friend, quit your worrying, re- 
adjust your aim, trim your lamp for another and 
better guest, live for the uplift of others, seek to 
give help and strength to the needy, bring sun- 
shine to the darkened, give of your abundance of 
spirit and exuberance to those who have little or 
191 



QUIT YOUR WORRYING 

none, and thus will you lay up treasure within 
your own soul which will convert hell into heaven, 
and give you joy forever. 

So long as men and women believe that happi- 
ness lies in outdistancing, surpassing their fellows 
in exterior or material things, they cannot help 
but be subjects to worry J To determine to gain 
a larger fortune than that possessed by another 
man is a sure invitation to worry to enter into 
possession of one's soul. Who has not seen the 
vain struggles, the distress, the worry of unsatis- 
fied ambitions that would have amounted to 
nothing had they been gratified? In Women's 
Clubs — as well as men's — many a heart-ache is 
caused because some other woman gains an office, 
is elected to a position, is appointed on a commit- 
tee you had coveted. 

The remedy for this kind of worry is to change 
the aim of life. Instead of making position, fame, 
the attainment of fortune, office, a fine house, an 
automobile, the object of existence, make the 
doing of something worthy a noble manhood or 
womanhood the object of your ambition. Strive 
192 



AMBITION AND WORRY 

to make yourself worthy to be the best president 
your club has ever had; endeavor to be the finest 
equipped, mentally, for the work that is to be 
done, whether you are chosen to do it or not, and 
keep on, and on, and still on, finding your joy in 
the work, in the benefit it is to yourself, in the 
power it is storing up within you. 

Then, as sure as the sun shines, the time will 
come when you will be chosen to do the needed 
work. "Your own will come to you." Nothing 
can hinder it. It will flow as certainly into your 
hands as the waters of the river flow into the sea. 



19S 



Chapter XV 

ENVY AND WORRY 
Hi NVY is a prolific source of worry. Once allow 
this demon of unrest to fasten itself in one's vitals, 
and worry claims every waking hour. Envy is 
that peculiar demon of discontent that cannot see 
the abilities, attainments, achievements, or pos- 
sessions of another without malicious determina- 
tion to belittle, deride, make light of, or absolutely 
deny their existence, while all the time covetously 
craving them for itself. Andrew Tooke pictures 

Envy as a vile female: 

A deadly paleness in her cheek was seen; 

Her meager skeleton scarce cased with skin; 

Her looks awry; an everlasting scowl 

Sits on her brow; her teeth deform'd and foul; 

Her breast had gall more than her breast could hold; 

Beneath her tongue coats of poison roll'd; 

No smile e'er smooth'd her furrow'd brow but those 

Which rose from laughing at another's woes; 

Her eyes were strangers to the sweets of sleep, 

Devouring spite for ever waking keep; 

She sees bless'd men with vast success crown'd, 

194 



ENVY AND WORRY 

Their joys distract her, and their glories wound; 
She kills abroad, herself s consum'd at home, 
And her own crimes are her perpetual martyrdom. 

Ever watching, with bloodshot eyes, the good 
things of others, she hates them for their posses- 
sions, longs to possess them herself, lets her covet- 
ousness gnaw hourly at her very vitals, and yet, in 
conversation w T ith others, slays with slander, vile 
innuendo, and falsehood, the reputation of those 
whose virtues she covets. 

As Robert Pollock wrote of one full of envy: 

It was his earnest work and daily toil 
With lying tongue, to make the noble seem 
Mean as himself. 

* * * * 

Whene'er he heard, 
As oft he did, of joy and happiness, 
And great prosperity, and rising worth, 
'Twas like a wave of wormwood o'er his soul 
Rolling its bitterness. 

Aye! and he drank in great draughts of this 
bitter flood, holding it in his mouth, tasting its 
foul and biting qualities until his whole being 
seemed saturated with it, hating it, dreading it, 
suffering every moment while doing it, yet endur- 
ing it, because of his envy at the good of others. 
195 



QUIT YOUR WORRYING 

Few there are, who, at some time or other in their 
lives, do not have a taste, at least, of the sting- 
ing bite of envy. Girls are envious of each other's 
good looks, clothes, possessions, houses, friends ; 
boys of the strength, skill, ability, popularity of 
others ; women of other women, men of other men, 
just as when they were boys and girls. 

One of the strongest words the great Socrates 

ever wrote was against envy. He said : 

Envy is the daughter of pride, the author of murder and 
revenge, the beginner of secret sedition, the perpetual tor- 
mentor of virtue. Envy is the filthy slime of the soul; a 
venom, a poison, a quicksilver, which consumeth the flesh, 
and drieth up the marrow of the bones. 

And history clearly shows that the wise philoso- 
pher stated facts. Caligula slew his brother be- 
cause he possessed a beauty that led him to be 
more esteemed and favored than he. Dionysius, 
the tyrant, was vindictive and cruel to Philoxenius, 
the musician, because he could sing; and with 
Plato, the philosopher, because he could dispute, 
better than himself. Even the great Cambyses 
slew his brother, Smerdis, because he was a 
stronger and better bowman than himself or any 
196 



ENVY AND WORRY 

of his party. It was envy that led the courtiers 
of Spain to crave and seek the destruction of 
Columbus, and envy that set a score of enemies 
at the heels of Cortes, the conqueror of Peru. 

It is a fearful and vindictive devil, is this devil 
of envy, and he who yields to it, who once allows 
it admittance to the citadel of his heart, will soon 
learn that every subsequent waking and even 
sleeping moment is one of worry and distress. 



197 



Chapter XVI 

DISCONTENT AND WORRY 

V/LOSELY allied to envy is discontent. These 
are blood relations, and both are prolific sources 
of worry. And lest there are those who think be- 
cause I have revealed, in the preceding chapter, 
the demon of worry — envy — as one that attacks 
the minds of the great and mighty, it does not 
enter the hearts of everyday people, let me quote, 
entire, an article and a poem recently written by 
Ella Wheeler Wilcox in The Los Angeles Exam- 
iner. The discontent referred to clearly comes 
from envy. Some one has blond tresses, while she 
has black. This arouses her envy. She is envious 
because another's eyes are blue, while hers are 
brown ; another is tall, while she is small ; etc., etc. 
There is nothing, indeed, that she cannot weep 
and worry over: 

There is a certain girl I know, a pretty little elf, 

Who spends almost her entire thoughts in pity for herself. 

198 



DISCONTENT AND WORRY 

Her glossy tresses, raven black, cause her to weep a pond — 
She is so sorry for herself because they are not blond. 

Her eyes, when dry, are very bright and very brown, 'tis 

true, 
But they are almost always wet, because they are not blue. 
She is of medium height, and when she sees one quite tall 
She weeps all day in keenest pain because she is so small. 

But if she meets some tiny girl whom she considers fair, 
Then that she is so big herself she sobs in great despair. 

When out upon a promenade her tears she cannot hide, 
To think she is obliged to walk while other folks can ride. 

But if she drives, why then she weeps — it is so hard to be 
Perched stiffly in a carriage seat while other girls run free. 
She used to cry herself quite sick to think she had to go 
Month after month to dreary schools; that was her constant 
woe. 

But on her graduating day, my, how her tears did run! 
It seemed so sorrowful to know that her school life was 
done. 

One day she wept because she saw a funeral train go by — 
It was so sad that she must live while other folks could die. 

And really all her friends will soon join with her in those 

tears 
Unless she takes a brighter view of life ere many years. 

The conceited girl or woman is tiresome and unpleasant 
as a companion, but the morbidly discontented woman is 
far worse. Perhaps you have met her, with her eternal com- 
plaint of the injustice of Fate toward her. 

She feels that she is born for better things than have 
befallen her; her family does not understand her; her 
friends misjudge her; the public slights her. 

199 



QUIT YOUR WORRYING 

If she is married she finds herself superior to her husband 
and to her associates. She is eternally longing for what she 
has not, and when she gets it is dissatisfied. 

The sorrowful side of life alone appeals to her. 

This she believes is due to her "artistic nature." The 
injustice of fortune and the unkindness of society are topics 
dear to her heart. She finds her only rapture in misery. 

If she is religiously inclined she looks toward Heaven 
with more grim satisfaction in the thought that it will strip 
fame, favor and fortune from the unworthy than because 
it will give her the benefits she feels she deserves. 

She does not dream that she is losing years of Heaven 
here upon earth by her own mental attitude. 

WE BUILD OUR HEAVENS THOUGHT BY 
THOUGHT. 

If you are dwelling upon the dark phases of your destiny 
and upon the ungracious acts of Fate, you are shaping 
more of the same experience for yourself here and in realms 
beyond. 

You are making happiness impossible for yourself upon 
any plane. In your own self lies Destiny. 

I have known a woman to keep her entire family des- 
pondent for years by her continual assertions that she was 
out of her sphere, misunderstood and unappreciated. 

The minds of sensitive children accepted these statements 
and grieved over "Poor Mother's" sad life until their own 
youth was embittered. The morbid mother seized upon the 
sympathies of her children like a leech and sapped their 
young lives of joy. 

The husband grew discouraged and indifferent under the 
continual strain, and what might have been a happy home 
was a desolate one, and its memory is a nightmare to the 
children to-day. 

200 



DISCONTENT AND WORRY 

Understand yourself and your Divine possibilities and 
you will cease to think you are misunderstood. 

It is not possible to misunderstand a beautiful, sunny 
day. All nature rejoices in its loveliness. . 

Give love, cheerfulness, kindness and good-will to all 
humanity, and you need not worry about being misunder- 
stood. 

Give the best you have to each object, purpose and in- 
dividual, and you will eventually receive the best from 
humanity. 



201 



Chapter XVII 
COWARDICE AND WORRY 

V^ OWARDICE is a much more prolific source of 
worry than most people imagine. There are many 
varieties of cowardice, all tracing their ancestry 
back to fear. Fear truly makes cowards of us 
all. There are the physical cowards, the social 
cowards, the business cowards, the hang-on-to- 
your-job cowards, the political cowards, the moral 
cowards, the religious cowards, and fifty-seven, 
nay, a hundred and one other varieties. Each and 
all of these have their own attendant demons of 
worry. Every barking dog becomes a lion ready 
to tear one to pieces, and no bridge is strong 
enough to allow us to pass over in safety. No 
cloud has a silver lining, and every rain-storm is 
sure to work injury to the crops rather than bring 
the needful moisture for their vivification. 

What a piteous sight to see a man who dares 
202 



COWARDICE AND WORRY 

not express his honest opinions, who must crawl 
instead of walk upright, in the presence of his em- 
ployer, lest he lose his job. How his cowardice 
worries him, meets him at every turn, torments 
him, lest some incautious word be repeated, lest he 
say or do the wrong thing. And so long as there 
are cowards to employ, bully employers will 
exist. Nay, the cowardice seems to call out bully- 
ing qualities. Just as a cur will follow you with 
barkings and threatening growls if you run from 
him, and yet turn tail and run when you boldly 
face him, so with most men, with society, with the 
world — flee from them, show your fear of them, 
and they will harry you, but boldly face them, 
they gentle down immediately, fawn upon you, lie 
down, or, to use an expressive slang phrase, "come 
and eat out of your hand." 

How politicians straddle the fence, refrain from 
expressing their opinions, deal in glittering gen- 
eralities, because of their cowardly fears. How 
they turn their sails to catch every breath of popu- 
lar favor. How cautious, politic, wary, they are, 
and how fears worry and besiege them, whenever 
203 



QUIT YOUR WORRYING 

they accidentally or incidentally say something 
that can be interpreted as a positive conviction. 
And yet men really love a brave man in political 
life; one who has definite convictions and fear- 
lessly states them ; who has no worries as to results 
but dares to say and do those things only of 
which his conscience approves. No matter how 
one may regard Roosevelt, cowardice is one thing 
none will accuse him of. He says his say, does his 
will, expresses himself with freedom upon any and 
all subjects, let results be as they may. Such a 
man is free from the petty worries that beset most 
politicians. He knows nothing of their existence. 
They cannot breathe in the free atmosphere that 
is essential to his life; like the cowardly cur, they 
run away at his approach. 

Oh, cowards all, of every kind and degree, quit 
ye like men, be strong and of good courage, dare 
and do, dare and say, dare and be, take a manly 
stand, fling out your banner boldly to the breeze, 
cry out as did Patrick Henry : "Give me Mberty, 
or give me death," or as that other patriot did: 
"Sink or swim, survive or perish, I give my hand 
204 



COWARDICE AND WORRY 

and my heart to this vote." Do the things you 
are afraid of; dare the men who make cowards of 
you ; say the things you fear to say ; and be the 
things you know you ought to be, and it will sur- 
prise you how the petty devils of worry will slink 
away from you. You will walk in new life, in new 
strength, in new joy, in new freedom. For he who 
lives a life free from worries of this nature, has a 
spontaneity, a freedom, an exuberance, an enthu- 
siasm, a boldness, that not only are winsome in 
themselves, make friends, open the doors of oppor- 
tunity, attract the moving elements of life, but 
that give to their possessor an entirely new out- 
look, a wider survey, a more comprehensive grasp. 
Life itself becomes bigger, grander, more majes- 
tic, more worth while, the whole horizon expands, 
and from being a creature of petty affairs, dab- 
bling in a small way in the stuff of which events 
are made, he becomes a potent factor, a man, a 
creator, a god, though in the germ. 



205 



Chapter XVIII 

WORRY ABOUT MANNERS AND SPEECH 

IVl ANY people are desperately worried about 
their manners. One has but to read the letters 
written to the "Answers to Correspondents" de- 
partments of the newspapers to see how much 
worry this subject of manners causes. This 
springs, undoubtedly, from a variety of causes. 
People brought up in the country, removing to 
the city, find the conditions of life very different 
from those to which they have been accustomed, 
and they are uncertain as to what city people re- 
gard as the right and proper things to do. Where 
one, perforce, must act, uncertainty is always irri- 
tating or worrying, and, because of this uncer- 
tainty, many people worry even before the time 
comes to act. Now, if their worry would take a 
practical and useful turn — or, perhaps, I had bet- 
ter state it in another way, viz., that if they would 
206 



WORRY ABOUT MANNERS AND SPEECH 

spend the same time in deciding what their course 
of action should be — there would be an end put to 
the worry. 

We have all seen such people. They are wor- 
ried lest their clothes are not all right for the 
occasion, lest their tie is of the wrong shade, their 
shoes of the correct style, and a thousand and one 
things that they seem to conjure up for the 
especial purpose of worrying over them. Who 
has not seen the nervousness, the worried expres- 
sion on the face, the real misery of such people, 
caused by trifles that are so insignificant as not 
to be worth one-tenth the bother wasted on them. 

The learning of a few fundamental principles 
will help out wonderfully. The chief end of "good 
manners" is to oil the wheels of social converse. 
Hence, the first and most important principle to 
learn is a due and proper consideration for the 
rights, opinions, and comfort of others. In other 
words, don't think of yourself so much as of the 
other fellow. Let your question be, not: How 
can I secure my own pleasure and comfort? but 
How can I best secure his? It is a self-evident 
207 



QUIT YOUR WORRYING 

proposition that you cannot make him feel com- 
fortable and happy if you are uncomfortable and 
unhappy. Hence, the first thing to do is to quit 
worrying and be comfortable. This desired state 
of mind will come as soon as you have cour- 
ageously made up your mind as to what standard 
of manners you intend to follow. The world is 
made up to-day, largely, of two classes: those 
who have money, and those who don't. Of the 
former class, a certain few set themselves up as 
the arbiters of good manners ; they decide what 
shall be called "good form," and what is not allow- 
able. If you belong to that class, the best thing 
you can do is to learn "to play the game their 
way." Study their rules of calling cards, and 
learn whether you leave one, two, three, or six 
when you are calling upon a man, or a woman, or 
both, or their oldest unmarried daughter, or the 
rest of the family. This is a regular game like 
golf, or polo. You have to know the course, the 
tools to use, and the method of going from one 
goal to another. Now, I never knew any ordinar- 
ily intelligent man or woman who couldn't learn 
208 



WORRY ABOUT MANNERS AND SPEECH 

the names of the tools used in golf, the numbers 
of the holes, and the rules of the game. How you 
play the game is another matter. And so is it in 
"good society." You can learn the rules as easily 
as the next one, and then it is "up to you" as to 
how you play it. You'll have to study the fashions 
in clothes ; the fashions in handkerchiefs, and how 
to flirt with them; when to drink tea, and where; 
how to lose money gracefully at bridge; how to 
gabble incessantly and not know what you are 
talking about; how to listen "intelligently" and 
not have the remotest idea what your vis-a-vis is 
saying to you; you'll have to join 'steen clubs, 
and read ten new novels a day; go to every new 
play ; know all about the latest movies ; know all 
the latest ideas of social uplift, study art, the 
spiritual essence of color, the futurists, and the 
cubists. Of course, you'll study the peerage of 
England and know all about rank and precedence 
— and, indeed, you'll have your hands and mind 
so full of things that will make such a hash of 
life that it will take ten specialists to straighten 
you out and help you to die forty years before 
209 



QUIT YOUR WORRYING 

your time. Hence, if that is the life you intend 
to live, throw this book into the fire. It will be 
wasting your time to read it. 

If you don't belong to the class of the extra 
rich, but are all the time wishing that you did; 
that you had their money, could live as they live, 
and, as far as you can, you imitate, copy, and 
follow them, then, again, I recommend that you 
give this book to the nearest newsboy and let him 
sell it and get some good out of it. You are not 
yet ready for it, or else you have gone so far be- 
yond me in life, that you are out of my reach. 

If, on the other hand, you belong to the class 
of workers, those who have to earn their living 
and wish to spend their lives intelligently and use- 
fully, you can well afford to disregard — after you 
have learned to apply the few basic principles of 
social converse — the whims, the caprices, the arti- 
ficial code set up by the so-called arbiters of fash- 
ion, manners, and "good form," which are not 
formulated for the promotion of intelligent inter- 
course between real manhood and womanhood, but 
for the preservation and strengthening of the bar- 
riers of wealth and caste. 
210 



WORRY ABOUT MANNERS AND SPEECH 

Connected with this phase of the subject is a 
consideration of those who are worried lest in 
word or action, they fail in gentility. They are 
afraid to do anything lest it should not be re- 
garded as genteel. When they shake hands, it 
must be done not so much with hearty, friendly 
spontaneity, but with gentility, and you wonder 
what that faint touch of fingers, reached high in 
air, means. They would be mortified beyond 
measure if they failed to observe any of the little 
gentilities of life, while the larger consideration 
of their visitor's disregard of the matter, would 
entirely escape them. To such people, social inter- 
course is a perpetual worry and bugbear. They 
are on the watch every moment, and if a visitor 
fails to say, "Pardon me," at the proper place, or 
stands with his back to his hostess for a moment, 
or does any other of the things that natural men 
and women often do, they are "shocked." 

Then it would be amusing, were it not pathetic, 
to see how particular they are about their speech 
— what they say, and how they say it. As Dr. 
211 



QUIT YOUR WORRYING 

Palmer has tersely said: "We are terrorized by 
custom, and inclined to adjust what we would say 
to what others have said before," and he might 
have added: It must be said in the same manner. 
I cannot help asking why men and women 
should be terrorized by custom — the method fol- 
lowed or prescribed by other men and women. 
Why be so afraid of others; why so anxious to 
"kow-tow" to the standards of others? Who are 
they? What are they, that they should demand 
the reverent following of the world? Have you 
anything to say? Have you a right to say it? 
Is it wise to say it? Then, in the name of God, 
of manhood, of common sense, say it, directly, 
positively, assertively, as is your right, remem- 
bering the assurance of the Declaration of Inde- 
pendence that "all men are created equal." Don't 
worry about whether you are saying it in the gen- 
teel fashion of some one else's standard. Make 
your own standard. Even the standards of the 
grammar books and dictionaries are not equal to 
that of a man who has something to say and says 
it forcefully, truthfully, pointedly, directly. Dr. 
212 



WORRY ABOUT MANNERS AND SPEECH 

Palmer has a few words to say on this phase of 
the subject, which are well worthy serious con- 
sideration: "The cure for the first of these 
troubles is to keep our eyes on our object, instead 
of on our listener or ourselves ; and for the second, 
to learn to rate the expressiveness of language 
more highly than its compeers. The opposite of 
this, the disposition to set correctness above ex- 
pressiveness, produces that peculiarly vulgar dic- 
tion, known as "school-ma'am English," in which 
for the sake of a dull accord with usage, all the 
picturesque, imaginative, and forceful employment 
of words is sacrificed." 

There you have it! If you have something to 
say that really means something, think of that, 
rather than of the way of saying it, your hearer, 
or yourself. Thus you will lose your self-con- 
sciousness, your dread, your fear, your worry. If 
your thought is worth anything, you can afford 
to laugh at some small violation of grammar, or 
the knocking over of some finical standard or other. 
Not that I would be thought to advocate either 
carelessness, laziness, or indifference in speech. 
213 



QUIT YOUR WORRYING 

Quite the contrary, as all who have heard me 
speak well know. But I fully believe that thought 
is of greater importance than form of expression. 
And, as for grammar, I believe with Thomas Jef- 
ferson, that "whenever, by small grammatical 
negligences, the energy of your ideas can be con- 
densed or a word be made to stand for a sentence, 
I hold grammatical rigor in contempt." 

I was present once when Thomas Carlyle and a 
technical grammarian were talking over some vio- 
lation of correct speech — according to the latter's 
standard — when Carlyle suddenly burst forth in 
effect, in his rich Scotch burr: "Why, mon, I'd 
have ye ken that I'm one of the men that make 
the language for little puppies like ye to paw 
over with your little, fiddling, twiddling gram- 
mars !" 

By all means, know all the grammar you can. 
Read the best of poets and prose authors to see 
how they have mastered the language, but don't 
allow your life to become a burden to you and 
others because of your worry lest you "slip a 
grammatical cog" here and there, when you know 
214 



WORRY ABOUT MANNERS AND SPEECH 

you have something worth saying. And if you 
haven't anything worth saying, please, please, 
keep your mouth shut, no matter what the genteel 
books prescribe, for nothing can justify the talk 
of an empty-headed fool who will insist upon talk- 
ing when he and his listeners know he has nothing 
whatever to say. So, if you must worry, let it be 
about something worth while — getting hold of 
ideas, the strength of your thought, the power of 
your emotion, the irresistible sweep of your en- 
thusiasm, the forcefulness of your indignation 
about wrong. These are things it is worth while 
to set your mind upon, and when you have decided 
what you ought to say, and are absorbed with the 
power of its thought, the need the world has for it, 
you will care little about the exact form of your 
words. Like the flood of a mighty stream, they 
will pour forth, carrying conviction with them, 
and to convince your hearer of some powerful 
truth is an object worthy the highest endeavor of 
a godlike man or woman — surely a far different 
object than worrying as to whether the words or 
method of expression meet some absurd standard 
of what is conceived to be "gentility." 
215 



QUIT YOUR WORRYING 

Congressman Hobson, of Merrimac fame, and 
Ex-President Roosevelt are both wonderful illus- 
trations of the point I am endeavoring to impress 
upon my readers. I heard Hobson when, in Phila- 
delphia, at a public dinner given in his honor, he 
made his first speech after his return from Cuba. 
It was evident that he had been, and was, much 
worried about what he should say, and the result 
was everybody else was worried as he tried to say 
it. His address was a pitiable failure, mainly be- 
cause he had little or nothing to say, and yet tried 
to make a speech. Later he entered Congress, 
began to feel intensely upon the subjects of na- 
tional defense and prohibition of the alcoholic 
liquor traffic. A year or so ago I heard him speak 
on the latter of these subjects. Here, now, was 
an entirely different man. He was possesed with 
a great idea. He was no longer trying to find 
something to say, but in a powerful, earnest, and 
enthusiastic way, he poured forth facts, figures, 
argument, and illustration, that could not fail to 
convince an open mind, and profoundly impress 
even the prejudiced. 

216 



WORRY ABOUT MANNERS AND SPEECH 

It was the same with Roosevelt. When he first 
began to speak in public, it was hard work. He 
wrote his addresses beforehand, and then read 
them. Perhaps he does now, for aught I know to 
the contrary, but I do know that now that he is 
full of the subjects of national honor in dealing 
with such cases as Mexico, Belgium, and Armenia, 
and our preparedness to sacrifice life itself rather 
than honor, his words pour forth in a perfect 
Niagara of strong, robust, manty argument, pro- 
test, and remonstrance, which gives one food for 
deep thought no matter how much he may differ. 

There are those who worry about the "gentility" 
of others. I remember when Charles Wagner, the 
author of The Simple Life, was in this country. 
We were dining at the home of a friend and one of 
these super-sensitive, finical sticklers for gentility 
was present. Wagner was speaking in his big, 
these super-sensitive, finical sticklers for gentility 
simple, primitive way of a man brought up as a 
peasant, and more concerned about what he was 
thinking than whether his "table manners" con- 
formed to the latest standard. There was some 
217 



QUIT YOUR WORRYING 

gravy on his plate. He wanted it. He took a 
piece of bread and used it as a sop, and then, im- 
paling the gravy-soaked bread on his fork, he 
conveyed it to his mouth with gusto and relish. 
My "genteel" friend commented upon it after- 
wards as "disgusting," and lost all interest in the 
man and his work as a consequence, 

To my mind, the criticism was that of a fool. 

John Muir, the eminent poet-naturalist of the 
Mountains of California, had a habit at the table 
of "crumming" his bread — that is, toying with it, 
until it crumbled to pieces in his hand. He would, 
at the same time, be sending out a steady stream 
of the most entertaining, interesting, fascinating, 
and instructive lore about birds and beasts, trees 
and flowers, glaciers and rocks, that one ever lis- 
tened to. In his mental occupancy, he knew not 
whether he was eating his soup with a fork or an 
ice-cream spoon — and cares less. Neither did any 
one else with brains and an awakened mind that 
soared above mere conventional manners. And 
yet I once had an Eastern woman of great wealth, 
(recently acquired), and of great pretensions to 
218 



WORRY ABOUT MANNERS AND SPEECH 

social "manners," at whose table Muir had eaten, 
inform me that she regarded him as a rude boor, 
because, forsooth, he was unmindful of these trivial 
and unimportant conventions when engaged in con- 
versation. 

Now, neither Wagner nor Muir would justify 
any advocacy on my part of neglect of true con- 
sideration, courtesy, or good manners. But 
where is the "lack of breeding" in sopping up 
gravy with a piece of bread or "crumming," or 
eating soup with a spoon of one shape or another? 
These are purely arbitrary rules, laid down by 
people who have more time than sense, money 
than brains, and who, as I have elsewhere re- 
marked, are far more anxious to preserve the bar- 
and unimportant conventions when engaged in con- 
ive realization of the biblical idea of the "brother- 
hood of man." 



219 



Chapter XIX 

THE WORRIES OF JEALOUSY 

J\ prolific source of worry is jealousy; not only 
the jealousy that exists between men and women, 
but that exists between women and women, and be- 
tween men and men. There v are a thousand forms 
that this hideous monster of evil assumes, and 
when they have been catalogued and classified, an- 
other thousand will be found awaiting, around the 
corner, of entirely different categories. But all 
alike they have one definite origin, one source, one 
cause. And that cause, I am convinced, is selfish- 
ness. We wish to own, to dominate, to control, 
absolutely, entirely, for our own pleasure and 
satisfaction, that of which we are jealous. In 
Chapter One I tell the incident of the young 
man on the street car whose jealous worry was so 
manifest when he saw his "girl" smiling upon an- 
other man. I suppose most men and women feel, 

no 



THE WORRIES OF JEALOUSY 

or have felt, at some time or other, this sex jeal- 
ousy. That woman belongs to me, her smiles are 
mine, her pleasant words should fall on my 
ear alone : / am her lover, she, the mistress of my 
heart ; and that should content her. 

Every writer of the human heart has expatiated 
upon this great source of worry — jealousy. 
Shakspere refers to it again and again. The 
whole play of Othello rests upon the Moor's jeal- 
ousy of his fair, sweet, and loyally faithful Des- 
demona. How the fiendish Iago plays upon 
Othello's jealous heart until one sees that: 

Trifles, light as air. 

Are to the jealous confirmations strong 

As proofs of holy writ. 

Iago bitterly resents a slight he feels Othello 
has put upon him. With his large, generous, un- 
suspicious nature, Othello never dreams of such a 
thing; he trusts Iago as his intimate friend, and 
thus gives the crafty fiend the oportunity he 

desires to 

put the Moor 
Into a jealousy so strong 
That judgment cannot rare . . . 

221 



QUIT YOUR WORRYING 

Make the Moor thank me, love me, reward me, 
For making him egregiously an ass 
And practicing upon his peace and quiet 
Even to madness. 

Othello gives his wife, Desdemona, a rare hand- 
kerchief. Iago urges his own wife, who is Desde- 
mona's maid, to pilfer this and bring it to him. 
When he gets it, he leaves it in Cassio's room. 
Cassio was an intimate friend of Othello's, one, 
indeed, who had gone with him when he went to 
woo Desdemona, and who, by Iago's machinations, 
had been suspended from his office of Othello's 
chief lieutenant. To provoke Othello's jealousy 
Iago now urges Desdemona to plead Cassio's cause 
with her husband, and at the came time eggs on 
Othello to watch Cassio: 

Look to your wife; observe her well with Cassio; 
Wear your eye thus, not jealous nor secure. 
I would not have your free and noble nature 
Oui; of self-bounty be abus'd; look to 't. 

Thus he works Othello up to a rage, and yet all 

the time pretends to be holding him back: 

I do see you're mov'd; 
I pray you not to strain my speech 
To grosser issues nor to larger reach 
Than to suspicion. 

222 



THE WORRIES OF JEALOUSY 

Iago leaves the handkerchief in Cassio's room, at 

the same time saying: 

The Moor already changes with my poison; 
Dangerous conceits are in their natures poisons, 
Which at the first are scarce found to distaste, 
But with a little act upon the blood, 
Burn like the mines of sulphur. 

And as he sees the tortures the jealous worries of 
the Moor have already produced in him, he exult- 
ingly yet stealthily rejoices: 

Not poppy, nor mandragora, 
Nor all the drowsy syrups of the world, 
Shall ever medicine thee to that sweet sleep 
Which thou hadst yesterday. 

Well might Othello exclaim that he is "Set on 

the rack." Each new suspicion is a fresh pull 

of the lever, a tightening of the strain to breaking 

point, and soon his jealousy turns to the fierce 

and murderous anger Iago hoped it would: 

Like to the Pontic sea, 
Whose icy current and compulsive course 
Ne'er feels retiring ebb, but keeps due on 
To the Propontic and the Hellespont, 
Even so my bloody thoughts, with violent pace, 
Shall ne'er look back, ne'er ebb to humble love, 
Till that a capable and wide revenge 
Swallow them up. 

223 



QUIT YOUR WORRYING 

Thus was he urged on, worried by his jealousy, 

until, in his bloody rage, he slew his faithful wife. 

Poor Desdemona, we weep her fate, yet at the 

same time we should deeply lament that Othello 

was so beguiled and seduced by his jealousy to so 

horrible a deed. And few men or women there 

are, unless their souls are purified by the wisdom 

of God, that are not liable to jealous influences. 

Our human nature is weak and full of subtle 

treacheries, that, like Iago, seduce us to our own 

undoing. He who yields for one moment to the 

worries of jealousy is already on the downward 

path that leads to misery, woe and deep undoing. 

Iago is made to declare the philosophy of this 

fact, when, in the early portion of the play he 

says to Roderigo: 

"Tis in ourselves we are thus or thus. Our bodies are 
our gardens, to the which our wills are gardeners; so that 
if we will plant nettles or sow lettuce, set hyssop and weed 
up thyme, supply it with one gender of herbs or distract 
it with many, either to have it sterile with idleness or 
manured with industry, why, the power and corrigible 
authority of this lies in our wills. 

Therein, surely, is great truth. We can plant or 
weed up, in the garden of our minds, whatever 

224 



THE WORRIES OF JEALOUSY 

we will; we can "have it sterile with idleness," or 
fertilize it with industry, and it must ever be 
remembered that the more fertile the soil the more 
evil weeds will grow apace if we water and tend 
them. Our jealous worries are the poisonous 
weeds of life's garden and should be rooted out 
instanter, and kept out, until not a sign of them 
can again be found. 

Solomon sang that "jealousy is as cruel as the 
grave; the coals thereof are coals of fire, which 
hath a most vehement flame." 

What a graphic picture of worry — a fire of ve- 
hement flame, burning, scorching, destroying 
peace, happiness, content, joy and reducing them 
to ashes. 

In my travel and observation I have found a vast 
amount of jealous worry in institutions of one kind 
and another — such as the Indian Service, in reform 
schools, in humane societies, in hospitals, among 
the nurses, etc. It seems to be one of the misfor- 
tunes of weak human nature when men and women 
associate themselves together to do some work 
which ought to call out all the nobleness, the 
225 



QUIT YOUR WORRYING 

magnanimity, the godlike qualities of their souls, 
they become maggoty with jealous worries — worry 
that they are not accorded the honor that is their 
due ; worry that their work is not properly apprec- 
iated; worry lest someone else becomes a favorite 
of the Superintendent, etc., etc., etc., ad libitum. 
Worries of this nature in every case, are a proof of 
small, or undeveloped, natures. No truly great 
man or woman can be jealous. Jealousy implies 
that you are not sure of your own worth, ability, 
power. You find someone else is being apprec- 
iated, you covet that appreciation for yourself, 
whether you deserve it or not. In other words 
you yield to accursed selfishness, utterly forgetful 
of the apostolic injunction: "In honor prefer- 
ring one another." 

And the same jealousies are found among men 
and women in every walk of life, in trade, in the 
office, among professors in schools, colleges, uni- 
versities ; in the learned professions, among law- 
yers, physicians and even among the ministers 
of the gospel, and judges upon the bench. 

Oh! shame! shame! upon the littleness, the 
226 



THE WORRIES OF JEALOUSY 

meanness, the paltriness of such jealousies; of the 
worries that come from them. How any human 
being is to be pitied whose mortal mind is cor- 
roded with the biting acid of jealous worry. 
When I see those who are full of worry because 
yielding to this demon of jealousy I am almost 
inclined to believe in the old-time Presbyterian 
doctrine of "total depravity." Whenever, where- 
ever, you find yourself feeling jealous, take your- 
self by the throat (figuratively), and strangle the 
feeling, then go and frankly congratulate the per- 
son of whom you are jealous upon some good 
you can truthfully say you see in him ; spread his 
praises abroad; seek to do him honor. Thus by 
active work against your own paltry emotion you 
will soon overcome it and be free from its damning 
and damnable worries. 

Akin to the worries of jealousy are the worries 
of hate. How much worry hate causes the hater, 
he alone can tell. He spends hours in conjur- 
ing up more reasons for his hate than he would 
care to write down. Every success of the hated 
is another stimulant to worry, and each step for- 
ward is a sting full of pain and bitterness. 
227 



QUIT YOUR WORRYING 

He who hates walks along the path of worry, 
and so long as he hates he must worry. Hence, 
there is but one practical way of escape from the 
worries of hatred, viz., by ceasing to hate, by 
overcoming evil with good. 



228 



Chapter XX 

THE WORRIES OF SUSPICION 

11 E who has a suspicious mind is ever the prey 
of worry. Such an one is to be pitied for he is 
tossed hither and yon, to and fro, at the whim of 
every breath of suspicion he breathes. He has 
no real peace of mind, no content, no unalloyed 
joy, for even in his hours of pleasure, of recrea- 
tion, of expected jollity he is worrying lest some- 
one is trying to get ahead of him, his vis-a-vis is 
"jollying" him, his partner at golf is trying to 
steal a march on him, he is not being properly 
served at the picnic, etc. 

These suspicious-minded people are sure 
that every man is a scoundrel at heart — more 
or less — and needs to be watched ; no man or 
woman is to be trusted; every grocer will sand 
his sugar, chicory his coffee, sell butterine for 
butter, and cold-storage eggs for fresh if he gets 
229 



QUIT YOUR WORRYING 

a chance. To accept the word of a stranger 
is absurd, as it is also to believe in the disinterest- 
edness of a politician, reformer, office-holder, a 
corporation, or a rich man. But to believe evil, 
to expect to be swindled, or prepare to be deceived 
is the height of perspicacity and wisdom. How 
wonderfully Shakspere in Othello portrays the 
wretchedness of the suspicious man. One reason 
why Iago so hated the Moor was that he suspec- 
ted him : 

the thoughts whereof 
Doth like a poisonous mineral gnaw my inwards, 
And nothing can or shall content my soul 
Till I am even'd with him. 

How graphic the simile, "gnaw my inwards ;" it 
is the perpetual symbol of worry ; the poisonous 
mineral ever biting away the lining of the stom- 
ach; just as mice and rats gnaw at the backs of 
the most precious books and destroy them; aye, 
as they gnaw during the night-time and drive 
sleep away from the weary, so does suspicion gnaw 
with its sharp worrying teeth to the destruction of 
peace, happiness and joy. 
230 



THE WORRIES OF SUSPICION 

Then, when Iago has poisoned Othello's mind 
with suspicions about his wife, how the Moor is 
worried, gnawed by them: 

By heaven, he echoes me, 
As if there were some monster in his thought 
Too hideous to be shown (To Iago) Thou dost mean 

something. 
I heard thee say even now, thou lik'dst not that, 
When Cassio left my wife; what didst not like? 
And when I told thee he was of my counsel 
In my whole course of wooing, thou criedst 'Indeed!' 
And didst contract and purse thy brow together, 
As if thou then hadst shut up in thy brain 
Some horrible conceit. If thou dost love me, 
Show me thy thought. 

And then we know, how, with crafty, devilish 

cunning, Iago plays upon these suspicions, fans 

their spark into flames. He pretends to be doing 

it purely on Othello's account and accuses himself 

that: 

it is my nature's plague 
To spy into abuses, and yet my jealousy 
Shapes faults that are not: 

and then cries out: 

O beware, my lord, of jealousy! 
It is the green-eyed monster which doth mock 
The meat it feeds on. That cuckold lives in bliss 
Who certain of his fate, loves not his wronger; 
But, O, what damned minutes tells he o'er 
Who dotes, yet doubts, suspects, yet strongly loves! 

231 



QUIT YOUR WORRYING 

There, indeed, the woe of the suspicious is 
shown. His minutes are really "damned;" peace 
flies his heart, rest from his couch, sanity from 
his throne, and, yielding himself, he becomes filled 
with murderous anger and imperils his salvation 
here and hereafter. 



Chapter XXI 
THE WORRIES OF) IMPATIENCE 

fl OW many of our worries come from impa- 
tience? We do not want to wait until the fruition 
of our endeavors comes naturally, until the time 
is ripe, until we are ready for that which we desire. 
We wish to overrule conditions which are beyond 
our power; we fail to accept the inevitable with 
a good grace ; we refuse to believe in our circum- 
scriptions, our limitations, and in our arrogance 
and pride express our anger, our indignation, 
our impatience. 

I have seen people whose auto has broken down, 
worried fearfully because they would not arrive 
somewhere as they planned, and in their impat- 
ient fretfulness they annoyed, angered, and upset 
all around them, without, in one single degree, 
improving their own condition or hastening the 
repair of the disaster. What folly ; what more 
than childish foolishness. 
233 



QUIT YOUR WORRYING 

A child may be excused for its impatience and 
petulance for it has not yet learned the inevitable 
facts of life — such as that breaks must be repaired, 
tires must be made so that they will not leak, and 
that the gasoline tank cannot be empty if the 
machine is to run. But a man, a woman, is sup- 
posed to have learned these incontrovertible facts, 
and should, at the same time, have learned acquies- 
ence in them. 

A train is delayed; one has an important en- 
gagement; worry seems inevitable and excusable. 
But is it? Where is the use? Will it replace the 
destroyed bridge, renew the washed out track, 
repair the broken engine? How much better to 
submit to the inevitable with graceful acceptance 
of the fact, than to fret, stew, worry, and at the 
same time, irritate everyone around you. 

How serenely Nature rebukes the impatience of 
the fretful worrier. A man plants corn, wheat, 
barley, potatoes— or trees, that take five, seven 
years to come to bearing, such as the orange, olive, 
walnut, date, etc. Let him fret ever so much, 
worry all he likes, chafe and fret every hour; let 
234 



THE WORRIES OF IMPATIENCE 

him go and dig up his seeds or plants to urge their 
upgrowing; let him even swear in his impatient 
worry and threaten to smash all his machinery, 
discharge his men, and turn his stock loose ; Nature 
goes on her way, quietly, unmoved, serenely, un- 
hurried, undisturbed by the folly of the one crea- 
ture of earth who is so senseless as to worry — viz., 
man. 

Many a man's hair has turned gray, and many 
a woman's brow and cheeks have become furrowed 
because of fretful, impatient worry over some- 
thing that could not be changed, or hastened, or 
improved. 

My conception of life is that manhood, woman- 
hood, should rise superior to any and all condi- 
tions and circumstances. Whatever happens, 
Spirit should be supreme, superior, in control. 
And until we learn that lesson, life, so far, has 
failed. Inasmuch as we do learn it, life has be- 
come a success. 



235 



Chapter XXII 

THE WORRIES OF ANTICIPATION 

JlIE crosses every bridge before he comes to it, 
is a graphic and proverbial rendering of a de- 
scription of the man who worries in anticipation. 
Something, sure, is going to happen. He is always 
fearful, not of what is, but of what is going to 
be. For twenty years he has managed to live and 
pay his rent, but at the beginning of each month 
he begins afresh to worry where "next month's 
rent is going to come from." He's collected his 
bills fairly well for a business life-time, but if a 
debtor fails to send in his check on the very day 
he begins to worry and fear lest he fail to receive 
it. His wife has given him four children, but at 
the coming of the fifth he is sure something extra- 
ordinarily painful and adverse is going to happen. 
He sees — possibly, here, I should say, she sees — 
their son climbing a tree. She is sure he will fall 
236 



THE WORRIES OF ANTICIPATION 

and break a leg, an arm, or his neck. Her boy 
mustn't ride the horse lest he fall and injure him- 
self; if he goes to swim he is surely in danger of 
being drowned, and she could never allow him or 
his sister to row in a boat lest it be overturned. 
The child must be watched momentarily, lest it 
fall out of the window, search out a sharp knife, 
swallow poison, or do some irreparable damage 
to the bric-a-brac. 

Here let me relate an incident the truth of 
which is vouched for, and which clearly illustrates 
the difference between the attitude of worry and 
that of trust. One day, when Flattich, a pious 
minister of the Wurtemberg, was seated in his arm- 
chair, one of his foster children fell out of a 
second-story window, right before him, to the 
pavement below. He calmly ordered his daughter 
to go and bring up the child. On doing so it was 
found the little one had sustained no injury. A 
neighbor, however, aroused by the noise, came in 
and reproached Flattich for his carelessness and 
inattention. While she was thus remonstrating, 
her own child, which she had brought with her, fell 
237 



QUIT YOUR WORRYING 

from the bench upon which she had seated it, and 
broke its arm. "Do you see, good woman," said 
the minister, "if you imagine yourself to be the 
sole guardian of your child, then you must con- 
stantly carry it in your arms. I commend my 
children to God; and even though they then fall, 
they are safer than were I to devote my whole 
time and attention to them." 

Those who anticipate evils for their children 
too often seem to bring down upon their loved 
ones the very evils they are afraid of. And one 
of the greatest lessons of life, and one that brings 
immeasurable and uncountable joys when learned, 
is, that Nature — the great Father-Mother of us 
all — is kindly disposed to us. We need not be so 
alarmed, so fearful, so anticipatory of evil at her 
hands. 

Charles Warren Stoddard used to tell of the 
great dread Mark Twain was wont to feel, dur- 
ing the exhaustion and reaction he felt at the close 
of each of his lectures, lest he should become in- 
capable of further writing and lecturing and 
therefore become dependent upon his friends and 
238 



THE WORRIES OF ANTICIPATION 

die a pauper. How wonderfully he conquered 
this demon of perpetual worry all those who know 
his life are aware; how that, when his publisher 
failed he took upon himself a heavy financial bur- 
den, for which he was in no way responsible, went 
on a lecture tour around the world and paid every 
cent of it, and finally died with his finances in a 
most prosperous condition. 

The anticipatory worries of others are just as 
senseless, foolish and absurd as were those of Mark 
Twain, and it is possible for every man to over- 
come them, even as did he. 

The cloud we anticipate seldom, if ever, comes, 
and then, generally, in a different direction from 
where we sought it. Time spent on looking for 
the cloud, and figuring how much of injury it will 
do us had better be utilized in garnering the hay 
crop, bringing in the lambs, or hauling warm fod- 
der and bedding for them. 

There is another side, however, to this worrying 
anticipation of troubles. The ancient philoso- 
phers recognized it. Lucan wrote: "The very 
239 



QUIT YOUR WORRYING 

fear of approaching evil has driven many into 
peril." 

There are those who believe that the very con- 
centration of thought upon a possible evil will 
bring to pass the peculiar arrangement of circum- 
stances that makes the evil. Of this belief I am not 
competent to speak, but I am fully assured that it 
is far from helpful to be contemplating the pos- 
sibility of evil. In my own life I have found that 
worrying over evils in anticipation has not preven- 
ted their coming, and, on the other hand, that 
where I have boldly faced the situation, without 
fear and its attendant worries, the evil has fled. 

Hence, whether worries in hand, or worries to 
come, worries real or worries imaginary, the wise, 
sane and practical course is to kill them all and 
thus Quit Your Worrying, 



mo 



Chapter XXIII 

HOW OUR WORRY AFFECTS OTHERS 

IF worry affected merely ourselves it would be 
bad enough, but we could tolerate it more than we 
do. For it is one of the infernal characteristcs of 
worry that our manifestation of it invariably af- 
fects others as injuriously as it affects ourselves. 

An employer who worries his employees never 
gets the good work out of them as does the one 
who has sense enough to keep them happy, good- 
natured and contented. I was lecturing once for 
a large corporation. I had two colleagues, who 
"spelled me" every hour. For much of the time 
we had no place to rest, work or play between our 
lectures. Our engagement lasted the better part 
of a year, and the result was that, during that 
period where our reasonable needs were unprovided 
for, we all failed to give as good work as 
we were capable of. We were unnecessarily wor- 
ried by inadequate provision and our employ- 
241 



QUIT YOUR WORRYING 

ers suffered. Henry Ford, and men of his type 
have learned this lesson. Men respond rapidly 
to those who do not worry them. Governor Hunt 
and Warden Sims, of Arizona, have learned the 
same fact in dealing with prisoners of the State 
Penitentiary. The less the men are "worried" by 
unnecessarily harsh treatment, absurd and cruel 
restrictions, curtailment of natural rights, the bet- 
ter they act, the easier they are liable to reform 
and make good. 

Dr. Musgrove to his Nervous Breakdowns, tells 
a story of two commanders which well illustrates 
this point : 

In a certain war two companies of men had to march 
an equal distance in order to meet at a particular spot. 
The one arrived in perfect order, and with few signs of 
exhaustion, although the march had been an arduous one. 
The other company reached the place utterly done up and 
disorganised. It was all a question of leadership; the 
captain of the first company had known his way and kept 
his men in good order, while the captain of the second 
company had never been sure of himself, and had harassed 
his subordinates with a constant succession of orders and 
counter-orders, until they had hardly known whether they 
were on their heads or their heels. That was why they 
arrived completely demoralised. 

In war, as in peace, it is not work that kills so 
much as worry, A general may make his sold* 



HOW OUR WORRY AFFECTS OTHERS 

iers work to the point of exhaustion as Napoleon 
often did, yet have their almost adoring worship. 
But the general who worries his men gets neither 
their good will nor good work. 

A worrying mother can keep a whole house in a 
turmoil, from father down to the latest baby. 
The growing boys and girls soon learn to dread 
the name of "home," and would rather be in school, 
in the backyard playing, in the attic, at the neigh- 
bors, or in the streets, anywhere, than within the 
sound of their mother's worrying voice, or frown- 
ing countenance. A worrying husband can drive 
his wife distracted, and vice versa. I was dining 
not long ago with a couple that, from outward ap- 
pearance, had everything that heart could desire 
to make them happy. They were young, healthy, 
had a good income, were both engaged in work 
they liked, yet the husband worried the wife con- 
stantly about trifles. If she wished to set the table 
in a particular way he worried because she didn't 
do it some other way; if she drove one of their 
autos he worried because she didn't take the other ; 
and when she wore a spring-day flowery kind of a 
hat he worried her because his mother never wore 
243 



QUIT YOUR WORRYING 

any other than a black hat. The poor woman was 
distracted by the absolute absurdities, frivolities 
and inconsequentialities of his worries, yet he 
didn't seem to have sense to see what he was doing. 
So I gave him a plain practical talk — as I had 
been drawn into a discussion of the matter without 
any volition on my part — and urged him to quit 
irritating his wife so foolishly and so unneces- 
sarily. 

Some teachers worry their pupils until the latter 
fail to do the work they are competent to do ; and 
the want of success of many an ambitious teacher 
can often be attributed to his, her, worrying dis- 
position. Remember, therefore, that when you 
worry you are making others unhappy as well as 
yourself, you are putting a damper, a blight, upon 
other lives as well as your own, you are destroy- 
ing the efficiency of other workers as well as your 
own, you are robbing others of the joy of life 
which God intended them freely to possess. So 
that for the sake of others, as well as your own, it 
becomes an imperative duty that you 

QUIT YOUR WORRYING. 
244 



Chapter XXIV 

WORRY VERSUS INDIFFERENCE 

1 HE aim and object of all striving in life should 
be to grow more human, more humane, less selfish, 
more helpful to our fellows. Any system of life 
that fails to meet this universal need is predestined 
to failure. When, therefore, I urge upon my 
readers that they quit their worrying about their 
husbands or wives, sons and daughters, neighbors 
and friends, the wicked and the good, I do not 
mean that they are to harden their hearts and be- 
come indifferent to their welfare. God forbid! 
No student of the human heart, of human life, and 
of the Bible can long ignore the need of a caution 
upon these lines. The sacred writer knew what 
he was talking about when he spoke of the human 
heart as deceitful and desperately wicked. It is 
deceitful or it would never blind people as it does 
to the inutility, the futility of much of their good- 
245 



QUIT YOUR WORRYING 

ness. A goodness that is wrapped up in a napkin, 
and lies unused for the benefit of others, rots and 
becomes a putrid mass of corruption. It can only 
remain good by being unselfishly used for the good 
of others, and to prove that the human heart is 
desperately wicked one needs only to look at the 
suffering endured by mankind unnecessarily — suf- 
fering that organized society ought to prevent 
and render impossible. 

The parable of the lost sheep was written to 
give us this needful lesson. The shepherd, when 
he found one of his sheep gone, did not sit down 
and wring his hands in foolish and useless worry 
as to what would happen to the sheep, the dangers 
that would beset it, the thorns, the precipices, the 
wolves. Nor did he count over the times he had 
cautioned the sheep not to get away from its 
fellows. Granted that it was conceited, self-willed, 
refused to listen to counsel, disobedient — the main 
fact in the mind of the shepherd was that it was 
lost, unprotected, in danger, afraid, cold, hungry, 
longing for the sheepfold, the companionship of 
its fellows and the guardianship of the shepherd. 
246 



WORRY VERSUS INDIFFERENCE 

Hence, he went out eagerly and sympathetically, 
and searched until he found it and brought it 
back to shelter. 

This, then, should be the spirit of those who 
have needed my caution and advice to quit their 
worrying about their loved ones and others — Do 
not worry, but do not, under any consideration, 
become hard-hearted, careless, or indifferent. 
Better by far preserve your interest and the hu- 
man tenderness that leads you to the useless and 
needless expenditure of energy and sympathy in 
worry than that you should let your loved ones 
suffer without any care, thought, or endeavor on 
their behalf. But do not let it be a sympathy 
that leads to worry. Let it be helpful, stimulat- 
ing, directive, energizing in the good. Overcome 
evil with good. Resist evil and it will flee from 
you. So long as those you love are absorbed in 
the things that in the past have led you to worry 
over them, be tender and sympathetic with them, 
surround them with your holy and helpful love. 

Jesus was tender and compassionate with all 
who were sick or diseased in body or mind. He 
247 



QUIT YOUR WORRYING 

was never angry with any, save the proud and self- 
righteous Pharisees. He tenderly forgave the 
adulterous woman, justified the publican and never 
lectured or rebuked those who came to have their 
bodily and mental infirmities removed by him. 
Let us then be tender with the erring and the sin- 
ful, rather than censorious, and full of rebuke. Is 
it not the better way to point out the right — 
overcome the evil with the good, and thus bind our 
erring loved ones more firmly to ourselves. Surely 
our own errors, failures, weaknesses and sins 
ought to have taught us this lesson. 

In the bedroom of a friend where I recently 
slept, was a card on which was illuminated these 
words, which bear particularly upon this subject: 

The life that has not known and accepted sorrow is 
strangely crude and untaught; it can neither help nor 
teach, for it has never learned. The life that has spurned 
the lesson of sorrow, or failed to read it aright, is cold 
and hard. But the life that has been disciplined by sorrow 
is courageous and full of holy and gentle love. 

And it is this holy, gentle, and courageous love 
that we need to exercise every day towards 
those who require it, rather than the worry that 
248 



WORRY VERSUS INDIFFERENCE 

frets still more, irritates, and widens the gulf al- 
ready existent. So, reader, don't worry, but 
help, sympathetically and lovingly, and above all, 
don't become indifferent, hard-hearted and selfish. 



249 



Chapter XXV 

WORRIES AND HOBBIES 

1 HOUGH these words are much alike in sound 
they have no sympathy one with another. ' Put 
them in active operation and they rush at each 
other's throats far worse than Allies and Germans 
are now fighting. They strive for a death grip, 
and as soon as one gets hold he hangs on to the end 
— if he can. Yet, as in all conflicts, the right is 
sure to win in an equal combat, the right of the 
hobby is absolutely certain to win over the wrong 
of the worry. 

Webster defines a hobby as: "A subject or 
plan which one is constantly setting off," or "a 
favorite and ever recurring theme of discourse, 
thought, or effort," but the editor of The Century 
Dictionary has a better definition, more in accord 
with modern thought, viz., "That which a person 
persistently pursues or dwells upon with zeal or 
delight, as if riding a horse." 
250 



WORRIES AND HOBBIES 

Are you cursed by the demon of worry? Has 
he got a death grip on your throat? Do you 
want to be freed from his throttling assaults? If 
so, get a hobby, the more mentally occupying the 
better, and ride it earnestly, sincerely, furiously. 
Let it be what it will, it will far more than pay in 
the end, when you find yourself free from the 
nightmare of worry that has so relentlessly ridden 
you for so long; Collect bugs, old china, Indian 
baskets, Indian blankets, pipes, domestic imple- 
ments, war paraphanalia, photographs, butter- 
flies ; make an herbarium of the flowers of your 
State; collect postage stamps, old books, first 
editions ; go in for extra-illustrating books ; pick 
up and classify all the stray phrases you hear — do 
anything that will occupy your mind to the exclu- 
sion of worry. 

And let me here add a thought — the more un- 
selfish you can make your hobby the better it will 
be for you. Perhaps I can put it even in a better 
way yet: The less your hobby is entered into 
with the purely personal purpose of pleasing your- 
self, and the more actively you cm ninkc it bene- 
251 



QUIT YOUR WORRYING 

ficial, helpful, joy-giving to others, the more po- 
tent for good it will be in aiding you to get rid of 
your worries. He who blesses another is thrice 
blessed, for he not only blesses himself by the act, 
but brings upon himself the blessing of the recip- 
ient and of Almighty God, with the oft-added 
blessing of those who learn of the good deed and 
breathe a prayer of commendation for him. In 
San Francisco there is a newspaper man who writes 
in a quaint, peculiar, simple, yet subtle fashion, 
who signs himself "K. C. B." During the Pan- 
ama-Pacific Exposition one of his hobbies was to 
plan to take there all the poor yourigsters of the 
streets, the newsboys, the little ones in hospitals, 
the incurables, the down-and-outers of the work- 
house and poor-farm, and finally, the almost for- 
gotten old men and women of the almshouses. 

I saw strong men weep with deep emotion at the 
procession of automobiles conveying the happy 
though generally silent throngs on one of these 
occasions, and "K. C. B." must have felt the 
showers of blessings that were sent in his direction 
252 



WORRIES AND HOBBIES 

from those who saw and appreciated his beautiful 
helpfulness. 

There is nothing to hinder any man, woman, 
youth or maiden from doing exactly the same 
kind of thing, with the same spirit, and bringing 
a few hours of happiness to the needy, thus driv- 
ing worry out of the mind, putting it hors de com- 
bat, so that it need never again rise from the 
field. 

Every blind asylum, children's hospital, slum, 
old lady's home, old man's home, almshouse, poor- 
farm, work-house, insane asylum, prison, and a 
thousand other centers where the poor, needy, sick 
and afflicted gather, has its lonely hearts that 
long for cherishing, aching brows that need to be 
soothed, pain to be alleviated ; and there is no pan- 
acea so potent in removing the worries of our own 
life as to engage earnestly in removing the posi- 
tive and active ills of others. 

People occasionally ask me if I have any hobby 

that has helped me ward off the attacks of worry. 

I do not believe I have ever answered this question 

as fully as I might have done, so I will attempt to 

253 



QUIT YOUR WORRYING 

do so now. One of my first hobbies was food re- 
form and hygienic living. When I was little more 
than twelve years of age I became a vegetarian 
and for nine years lived the life pretty rigorously. 
I have always believed that simpler, plainer living 
than most of us indulge in, more open air life, 
sleeping, working, living out of doors, more active, 
physical exercise of a useful character, would be 
beneficial. Then I became a student of memory 
culture. Professor William Stokes of the Royal 
Polytechnic Institution became my friend, and for 
years I studied his system of Mnemonics, or as it 
was generally termed "Artificial Memory." Then 
I taught it for a number of years* and evolved 
from it certain fundamental principles upon which 
I have largely based the cultivation of my own 
memory and mentality, and for which I can never 
be sufficiently thankful. Then I desired to be a 
public speaker. I became a "hobbyist" on pro- 
nunciation, enunciation, purity of voice, phrasing 
and getting the thought of my own mind in the 
best and quickest possible way into the minds of 
others. For years I kept a small book in which 
254 



WORRIES AND HOBBIES 

I jotted down every word, its derivation and full 
meaning with which I was not familiar. I studied 
clear enunciation by the hour; indeed as I walked 
through the streets I recited to myself, aloud, so 
that I could hear my own enunciation, such poems 
as Southey's Cataract of Lodore, where almost 
every word terminates in "ing." For I had heard 
many great English and American speakers whose 
failure to pronounce this terminal "ing" in such 
words as coming, going, etc., used to distress me 
considerably. Other exercises were the catches, 
such as " Peter Piper picks a peck of pickled pep- 
pers," or "Selina Seamstich stitches seven seams 
slowly, surely, serenely and slovenly," or "Around 
a rugged rock a ragged rascal ran a rural race." 
Then, too, Professor Stokes had composed a won- 
derful yarn about the memory, entitled "My M- 
made memory medley, mentioning memory's most 
marvelous manifestations." This took up as 
much as three or four pages of this book, every 
word beginning with m. It was a marvelous exer- 
cise for lingual development. He also had "The 
Far-Famed Fairy Tale of Fenella," and these were 
255 



QUIT YOUR WORRYING 

constantly and continuously recited, with scrupu- 
lous care as to enunciation. My father was an old- 
time conductor of choral and oratorio societies, 
and was the leader of a large choir. I had a good 
alto voice and under his wise dicipline it was cul- 
tivated, and I was a certificated reader of music at 
sight before I was ten years old. Then I taught 
myself to play the organ, and before I was twenty 
I was the organist and choir-master of one of the 
largest Congregational churches of my native 
town, having often helped my father in the past 
years to drill and conduct oratorios such as The 
Messiah, Elijah, The Creation, etc. When I be- 
gan to speak in public the only special instruction 
I had for the cultivation of the voice was a few 
words from my father to this effect: Stand be- 
fore the looking-glass and insist that your face 
appear pleasant and agreeable. Speak the sen- 
tence you wish to hear. Listen to your own voice, 
you can tell as well as anyone else whether its 
sound is nasal, harsh, raucous, disagreeable, af- 
fected, or in any way displeasing or unnatural. 
Insist upon a pure, clear, natural, pleasing tone, 
256 



WORRIES AND HOBBIES 

and that's all there is to it. When you appear 
before an audience speak to the persons at the fur- 
ther end of the hall and if they can hear you don't 
worry about anyone else. Later, when I had be- 
come fairly launched as a public speaker, he came 
to visit me, and when I appeared on my platform 
that night I found scattered around on the floor, 
where none could see them but myself, several 
placards upon which he had printed in easily-read 
capitals: Don't shout — keep cool. Avoid rant- 
ing. Make each point clear. Don't ramble, etc. 

When I was about fourteen I took up phono- 
graphy, or stenography as it is now known. This 
was an aid in reporting speeches, making notes, 
etc., but one of its greatest helps was in the matter 
of analysing the sounds of words thus aiding me 
in their clear enunciation. 

At this time I was also a Sunday school teacher, 
and at sixteen years of age, a local preacher in 
the Methodist church. This led to my becoming 
an active minister of that denomination after I 
came to the United States, and for seven years I 
was as active as I knew how to be in the discharge 
257 



QUIT YOUR WORRYING 

of this work. In my desire to make my preaching 
effective and helpful I studied unweariedly and 
took up astronomy, buying a three inch telescope, 
and soon became elected to Fellowship in the Royal 
Astronomical Society of England. Then I took 
up microscopy, buying the fine microscope from 
Dr. Dallinger, President of the Royal Microscopi- 
cal Society, with which he had done his great work 
on bacilli — and which, by-the-way, was later 
stolen from me — and I was speedily elected a Fel- 
low of that distinguished Society. A little later 
Joseph Le Conte, the beloved geologist of the 
California State University, took me under his 
wing, and set me to work solving problems in 
geology, and I was elected, in due time, a Fellow of 
the Geological Society of England, a society hon- 
ored by the counsels of such men as Tyndall, 
Murchison, Lyell, and all the great geologists 
of the English speaking world. 

Just before I left the ministry, in 1889, I 
took up, with a great deal of zeal, the study of the 
poet Browning. I had already yielded to the 
charm of Ruskin — whom I personally knew — and 

258 



WORRIES AND HOBBIES 

Carlyle, but Browning opened up a new world of 
elevated thought to me, in which I am still a 
happy dweller. In seeking a new vocation I nat- 
urally gravitated towards several lines of thought 
and study, all of which have influenced materially 
my later life, and all of which I pursued with the 
devotion accorded only to hobbies. These were 
I: A deeper study of Nature, in her larger and 
manifestations, as the Grand Canyon of Arizona, 
the Petrified Forest, the Yosemite Valley, the Big 
Trees, the High Sierras, (with their snow-clad 
summits, glaciers, lakes, canyons, forests, flora 
and fauna), the Colorado and Mohave Deserts, the 
Colorado River, the Painted Desert, and the many 
regions upon which I have written books. 
II: The social conditions of the submerged tenth, 
which led to my writing of a book on The Dark 
Places of Chicago which was the stimulating 
cause of W. T. Stead's soul-stirring book // 
Christ Came to Chicago. Here was and is the 
secret of my interest in all problems dealing with 
social unrest, the treatment of the poor and sinful, 
etc., for I was Chaplain for two years of two 
259 



QUIT YOUR WORRYING 

homes for unfortunate women and girls. III. A 
deeper study of the Indians, in whom I had always 
been interested, and which has led to my several 
books on the Indians themselves, their Basketry, 
Blanketry, etc. IV. A more detailed study of the 
literature of California and the West, and also, V. 
A more comprehensive study of the development of 
California and other western states, in order that 
I might lecture more acceptably upon these facina- 
ting themes. 

Here, then, are some of the hobbies that have 
made, and are making, my life what it is. I leave it 
to my readers to determine which has been the 
better — to spend my hours, days, weeks, months 
and years in getting my livelihood and worrying, 
or in providing for my family and myself, and 
spending all the spare time I had upon these many 
and varied hobbies, some of which have developed 
into my life-work. And I sincerely hope I shall be 
absolved from any charge of either self-glorifica- 
tion or egotism in this recital of personal exper- 
iences. At the time I was passing through them 
I had no idea of their great value. They were the 
260 



WORRIES AND HOBBIES 

things to which something within me bade me flee to 
find refuge from the worries that were destroying 
me, and it is because of their triumphant success 
that I now recount them, in the fervent desire that 
they may bring hope to despondent souls, give 
courage to those who are now wavering, uncertain 
and pessimistic, and thus rid them of the demons 
of fret and worry. 

Now that I have come to my final words where 
all my final admonitions should be placed, I find 
I have little left to say. I have said it all, reader, 
in the chapters you have read (or skipped.) In- 
deed I have not so much cared to preach to you 
myself, as to encourage, incite you to do your own 
preaching. This is, by far, the most effective, 
permanent and lasting. Improvement can come 
only from within. A seed of desire may be sown 
by an outsider, but it must grow in the soil of your 
soul, be harbored, sheltered, cared for, and finally 
beloved by your own very self, before it will flower 
into new life for you. That you may possess this 
new life — a life of work, of achievement, of useful- 
ness to others — is my earnest desire, and this can 
261 



QUIT YOUR WORRYING 

come only to its fullest fruition in those who have 
learned to QUIT WORRYING. 



262 



TRUNK WORRIES 

BY 

GEORGE WHARTON JAMES 

I could write a large chapter on worries caused 
by poor trunks. But why buy a poor trunk, the 
lock of which fails, the corners are easily knocked 
off, the lid and sides split, the bottom gives way, 
and that, therefore, won't carry your belongings 
in safety, when for a little more first outlay of 
cash, you may secure a trunk that is 

STRONG, RELIABLE, SURE, 

AND 

GUARANTEED FOR FIVE YEARS 

against theft, loss, or destruction. 

I shall never buy any other trunk in the future 
than one of these. They can be purchased in 
any city in the United States from the leading 
dealers. Their name is 

1NDESTRUCTO. 

They are made at Mishawaka, Indiana. I feel 
personally confident in assuring you against all 
ordinary trunk worries if you purchase an 
Indestructo. 



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New Limp-Leather Edition 

MARK TWAIN 

On Thin Paper 



MESSRS. HARPER & BROTHERS have Just 
published the last volumes in this new edition 
of Mark Twain's works. The contents of the vol- 
umes is the same, with slight exceptions, as in the 
I'niforra Trade Edition. The price of this uncom- 
monly Gnc Limp-Leather Edition is: Titles com- 
plete in one volume, $1.75 net each; Titles in two 
volumes, $1.50 net each. This makes a total of 
$39.00 net. But when sets are bought complete the 
price is $37.00 net, a saving of $2.00. The titles 
and prices are: 

The Adventures or Huckleberrt Finn 

tut $1.75 

The $30,000 Bequest net 1.75 

Innocents Abboad, 2 Vols Each net 1 .50 

Joan or Arc. 2 Vols Each net 1 50 

The Man That Corrupted Hadletbubo 

net 1.75 

The Gilded Aoe, 2 Vols Each net 1 50 

Tom Sawyer Abroad net 1 . 75 

Lire on the Mississippi net 1.75 

A Tramp Abroad, 2 Vols Each net 1 .50 

Christian Science net 1.75 

Sketches New and Old net 1 .75 

Prince and Pauper net 1.75 

Pudd'nhead Wilson net 1.75 

Followino the Equator, 2 Vols. Each net 1.60 




The Adventures or Tom Sawyer net $1 .75 

A Connecticut Yankee in Kino Arthur's 

Court net 1 .75 

American Claimant net 1.75 

Rouohino It, 2 Vols Each net 1.50 



COMPLETE WORKS OF MARK TWAIN 



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8vo $1.75 

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Joan or Arc. Crown 8vo 2.50 

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Prince and Pauper. Crown 8vo 175 

Pudd'nhead Wilson. Crown 8vo 1 .75 

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TnE $30,000 Bequest. Crown 8vo 1 .75 

Tom Sawter Abroad. Crown 8vo 175 

Tom Sawter. Crown 8vo 1 .75 

Tramp Abroad. Crown 8vo 2.00 

Set of 18 vol), in a box 33.50 
Mark Twain's Speeches. Crown Svo. net 2.00 



Adam's Diart. Illustrated - $1.00 

A Doo's Tale. Illustrated . 1.00 

Double-Barbelled Detective Stort. Il- 
lustrated 1 isa: 

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How to Tell a Story. Post 8vo 1 «50i 

Is Shakespeare Dead? Post Svo nrf 1.25 

Tom Sawter. Holiday Edition. Illustrated. 

8vo net 2.00 

Same in box net t.00 

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Seventieth Birthdat Souvenir. Illustrat- 
ed. Paper, 4to JO 

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Svo net SJH) 



BOOKS BY GEORGE WHARTON JAMES 



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IN AND OUT OF THE OLD MISSIONS OF CALIFORNIA. 
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THROUGH RAMONA'S COUNTRY. 406 pages. Fully 
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